I miss the feeling— of waking up with excitement for tomorrow, picking out my clothes with a smile, walking down familiar streets just to knock on a friend’s door, knowing laughter waits on the other side. I miss the days when we did the most foolish things, yet felt like we had the whole world— talking about dreams we barely understood, but believed in anyway. I miss waking up with plans, knowing exactly where we’d go, what we’d do, and how the day would unfold like a story we wrote together. I miss the endings— walking home under dim lights, laughing too loud, knowing we’d be scolded for staying out too late, yet never regretting a second. I miss the small things: sharing food like it was a feast, copying homework in a rush, sleeping side by side, kicking, laughing, trying to stay quiet—but never succeeding. I miss the places we passed, fireworks painting the sky, waves whispering goodbye as the sunrise slowly faded. And now… tomorrow feels heavy. Different. And maybe that’s what hurts the most— knowing those tomorrows won’t ever feel the same again.