If I could tell you anything, right now, it would be how far I've come. How I never anticipated the road might bring me here, where I am today - waking in the early morning to the sound of the train shuffling commuters into and out of the tunnel. Still, it is where I find myself.

If I could tell you anything, it is that I still miss you like a back tooth - there is a hole inside of me that others can't see, but I've never stopped tonguing it. I think of you every day. I wonder if I will ever find the ease of understanding with another that I once felt with you. I wonder if it happens, if I will stop feeling your presence when I wake in the morning, eyes still closed, listening to the soundtrack of a city you have never seen.

You would hate this place. It lacks wide vision, and the backdrop of mountains you grew up against... You would have struggled to find the music in this breakbeat, this tabla symphony, the slap slap of constant footfalls in the darkness would have plagued you with distraction. No one here sleeps with the windows closed, though - and you'd have liked this. It lets the heat out, and the dreams in - even if no one here ever realizes them - and I find poetry in this.

I am wasting the morning dreaming in bed - refusing to open my eyes and admit that reality is something different. Once the twilight is broken, the fog burns off, and I can no longer pretend that you have been anything but gone - for years, now - and, no matter how often I explain away the lack, it remains… this tender, aching space I can't stop probing the depths of.

I wonder if I will ever stop noticing your absence - if this hole you left behind you will ever scar over.