This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Rowan chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.
I don’t need him.
I can brew my own coffee in the morning, sleep alone at night. I can dance to my own music and write poetry without a breathing muse. I can live without him.
But, God, do I want him.
I miss him when he’s not around. I dwell in our conversations and adventures. I grow anxious to see his smile and feel his arms around me after a long day, or in the morning when I first open my eyes.
I don’t need him, but I still want his words when I’m crying. I don’t need him, but I still want his golden eyes across the table. I don’t need him, but I still want him all around me—always.
Wanting is not needing.
I love him more than the air I breathe, the water I drink, the food I eat.