observe

i miss you.

who ‘you’ is is irrelevant.
there are multiple people and feelings and moments that i miss
as much as i might long for it, the ‘you’ i’m missing is dead. non existant. time has molded ‘you’ into something else that may or may not miss me. 

i worry that my goals are unreasonably high.
simultaneously i worry that i don’t strive for more out of life
i miss not having to worry so much about things.