Wait,
before you write that note,
I have something to say:

Maybe I don’t understand your pain because I don’t have it.
I probably can’t even begin to ponder what your pain even is,
Or how much you carry.

But I do know that you will miss some things.

I know you are going to miss washing dishes and getting pruned fingers from the lukewarm water.

I know you are going to miss music, the swirling melodies and harmonies curing everything.

I know you are going to miss rainy days, because for some strange reason they always turn out better than expected.

I know you are going to miss school, believe it or not. You’ll miss the empty hallways and silence in the bathroom stalls that make you feel safe.

I know you are going to miss autumn, when the leaves change colors and you look back at how far you’ve come.

I know you are going to miss jumping into a pool, and how when you are underwater, you’re hair looks and feels like silk slipping through your fish fingers.

I know you are going to miss the feeling when you get that one stubborn pencil perfectly sharpened, only to sit down and ruin your flawless work when it touches the paper.

You will miss a lot of things.
I know you don’t think that now,

But you will.