I heard the sound of you spitting in the sink. Annoying and gross, I used to think. But last night was different. Feels almost like you were back home. And I wish you were. Whenever I'm eating good food or wearing new and pretty clothes, I can't help but feel a pang of guilt. I'm never wholeheartedly happy because whenever I'm adorned with comfort and my body is filled up with nourishment, I think of how you have none of that. And I wish you do. I can't talk to you on the phone, telling you how my day went, how was school, and what I ate today. I don't like showcasing my life to you because I have almost everything. But you have none of that. I can't be content unless I know that you are having a fair share of this good life that I have. You're still young yet your youth is wasting away. I wish it not.
I miss you.
Until you come back, my life is pretty much incomplete.
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