The worst thing you can do if you miss or need someone is let them know it.
I jammed my hand in my jacket pocket, bracing myself fo the next hit, and fel something. Something grainy and samll, sticking to the tips of my fingers: the sand from Commons Park. Oh Cass, I thought. I miss you so, so much.
After everything that happened, how could I miss him? But I did, I did.
What happened to goodbye?
I would miss Colby, but it wasn't going anywhere. All the more reason why I should.
But as was so often the case, it was the one person missing who you thought about more than the ones who were right in front of you.
It was like reaching for someone's hand, then missing their fingers, or even their arm, and hitting their shoulder instead. But no matter. You hang on tight anyway.
There was something striking about a single key. It was like a question waiting to be answered, a whole missing a half. Useless on its own, needing something else to be truly defined.