When you wrote me

When you wrote me, I could tell something was different.

This wasn’t the first time and won’t be the last time you send the words “I miss you.”

But this time, you were crying and alone on a Sunday morning.

Or have there been other days like this?  

Strange that I can’t remember now.

Maybe I only exist, anymore, when you think of me.

Please don’t forget, then.  

And maybe that will help me remember.

And then maybe I can get my message across.

That my only thought is that I miss you too.