năzuinţă (dor).

maybe it's because you were young and quick to impress, but i miss the you i once knew. i miss the person i could talk to for hours on end, whether it was in bed or outside in the town square or shutting down the campus dining hall. i miss the person who would hold my hand and caress each finger, who would compliment the color of my nail polish and surprise me with the fact that boys notice those things too. i miss the person who, during intimate moments, would check-in with me to see if i was comfortable with whatever we were doing (which only made me want him more). i miss the person who, while still finding himself, at least appeared to stand for something. who, as a first year, had the guts to email our college president directly to demand more rights for undocumented students on campus. i miss the person who didn't think of me as just some other girl. the person who would phone me before bed just to hear my voice and who, after hearing a friend dedicate a julia alvarez poem to me, shook his head in disbelief and called me 'amazing.' i miss the person who once, while napping, must have had a bad dream because he suddenly stirred, exclaimed something out loud, and then reached to pull me in closer - that person would never say, "what is it with girls and always wanting to cuddle?" the person who would never lump me together with all those other girls he's been with. but the person i miss is now a person likes to joke around all the time, accepting fake laughter and hollow conversations. he is now the first person with his shirt off at parties. no longer undocumented, he is now the person who wishes he had cancer, diabetes, anything else that would make others feel sorry for him. the person i miss is now a ghost, and every now and then, he still haunts me.