As I was writing in my journal tonight, I turned to the next page to continue my thoughts and there was a message that read simply, “miss you”.

The rest of the page was empty. I have no idea how long ago these two, painfully, lonely words were written. I didn’t recognize the hand writing and couldn’t imagine who would have found my diary.

The word “miss” was inscribed in ink and the first letters, m and i were standing separate from each other and the final letters ss; these two letters were nestled close together. The word “you” was in pencil and seemed to be placed an unusually long distance from the word “miss”.

These words, printed by hand, were not particularly large, but being alone on the page, they surprised me.

Pressed between this message and the next blank page, were these two, fragile pansies on the sheerist of paper, the color of pond silt.

My heart is full… it is at once sad and yet with a strange sense of being loved or having once been loved. How long had I not known that some one was telling me that I was missed?

Perhaps, whoever left me these words of yearning will feel my heart tonight and know that I miss you too… with all of my being.