sometimes language fails me. it isnt accurate or it isnt enough. you cant hear the intonation in my voice, faintness of my breath. language doesn’t capture the zeal in eyes. it knows nothing of the pit in my stomach, the gulf in my chest.
In French, you don’t say “I miss you”
you say, “tu me masques”
which means, “you are missing from me”
and thats as close as I can come today.