The Art of Missing.

He said “I will miss you.”

And I giggled.

You see, words always mean more than what they say. Also known as reference to context.

It is so easy to take words at face value and be happy about them, and probably thumb through them later and blush and tell oneself how fortunate one is.

But, then what would be the point of communication, if no-one is confused by it?

So, I am confused.

You see, I don’t take missing someone lightly. It is an art, not be indulged in frivolously.

Unless it makes you concentrate so hard, that you could literally wish that person into being out of particulate matter, it’s not really missing.

When I miss someone, I cry for them. I bawl, and sit in corners and smoke endless cigarettes, and write. I write letters to them, I write of them and I write to forget about them. I heave dry sobs and hug my cats randomly and drink way more alcohol than is appropriate for a work day. I look at my phone every two seconds, and stare at random points in space. I trawl through their digital presence and snap at strangers. Above all, I keep measuring time. From the last time I saw them.

I don’t think he meant this kind of missing. But on the other hand, maybe he thinks about me a bit more than he otherwise might have.  Or maybe, he just said them as a matter of course, to be grouped with sundry other items like “You’re cute” or “I like you” or “I want to see you”. A bunch of feel-good nothings.

Oh well. I’ll take the nothings. They’re better than nothing.



  1. Neha Kapoor · July 31, 2013

    How wonderfully written.

    • redchappals · July 31, 2013

      Thanks Neha.

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