I wish there was a word for that feeling of wishing you had a part
in the happy memories of someone you care about (perhaps too) deeply.
It comes with a surge of envy for those that do,
and a queer ache in the chest,
and sometimes even a pricking of the eyelids.
A stab of sadness that feels utterly at odds with the happiness of their memory.
I’d hand you that word with my palms wide open — like a gift —
to show you my aching, and how I wish to be more/closer/deeper a part of you.
–Charla M. DelaCuadra