I miss the person I know myself as, I miss days where thoughts of suicide didn't break in at odd moments and trip me up, I miss the people who loved me and the people I loved or wanted to love. I miss believing that there is good in the world and good in myself that can overcome. I miss believing in anything, in myself, in people, in the future. I miss wearing short sleeves. I miss the feeling of having a place or a person to call home. I miss being able to remember things from one moment to the next. I miss things I never had and never will have.