Why I Hate Hearing… “I Miss You”

I hate hearing “I miss you.”

Not because I don’t want to be missed.

I do.

There was a time when those three words could completely change my mood.

Seeing I miss you pop up on my phone could make me laugh like a fool or an idiot all through the day. It made me feel wanted.

It made me feel like my absence meant something to someone. But something changed after a while.

Now, certain people tell me they miss me. I don’t feel loved. I, instead, I feel tired, because sometimes I miss you isn’t really about wanting you back.

Sometimes it’s about just one person remembering how good it felt to have you around.

And those aren’t the same things.

The truth is…

You can miss someone’s company without being willing to treat them better.

You can miss someone’s attention without being ready to give them the consistently they truly deserve.

Also, you can miss the way someone loved you without actually being prepared to love them properly.

That is the part people really talk about.

Also, someone can genuinely miss you and still be completely wrong for you.

I learned that the hard way.

The truth is, there are people who will disappear when you need them.

They will ignore your messages, they will give you bare minimum, and make you question where you stand in their life.

Then, just when you finally start getting used to their absence, that’s when they come back with those familiar words, “I miss you.”

And suddenly, you are supposed to forget everything that happened. They ask you to forgive them, and simply “forget”.

Forget the unanswered message
Forget the disappointments
Forget how many times you had to convince yourself not to reach out to them again.
They ask you to forget how lonely you felt while they were technically still in your life,

…

Just because somehow they “miss you” now.

Wait…let me ask you a simple question.

Then what do you want me to do with the information (the you missed me)?

Do you miss me enough to change?
Do you miss me enough to show up differently?
Do you miss me enough to stop giving me reasons to question your feelings?
Or do you simply miss the comfort of knowing I was there?

…

Because, seriously, that’s where “I miss you” starts to lose its meaning.

The truth is, when those words keep coming without anything really behind them, they become cruel and meaningless.

It feels just like someone standing outside a house they refuse to live in, and repeatedly saying, “I miss this place.”

The truth is they have the keys, they simply just didn’t take care of it.

And that is what hurts.

Sometimes, the people always saying “I miss you” are the same people who made you feel unwanted when they fully had you.

They had your time.
Your attention.
Your affection.
Your patience.
Your heart.

…

And somehow, they just didn’t realize the value of any of it until you stopped giving them.

Now that you are gone, suddenly, they start to see how special those things are.

Now, suddenly, they remember…

The late-night conversations.
The stupid jokes.
The way you checked on them.
The way you always made time.
The little things you did without being asked.

…

They now…they seem to miss all of it.

But you can’t help wondering why they needed to lose all these things before they could appreciate you.

That’s why I don’t always find the word “I miss you” romantic or interesting anymore.

Sometimes I find it sad instead.

Because there are people who only recognize value when they are no longer easy to access.

I don’t want to be loved like that.

I don’t want to be someone’s “I miss you” afterthought.
I want to be appreciated while I’m sitting beside you.
I want the phone calls before I become distant.
I want the effort before I get tired.
I want the affection before I start withdrawing.
I want someone to notice when something is wrong without waiting until I’m halfway out the door.

Because the truth is, love shouldn’t require your absence before someone finally appreciates your presence.

Sometimes you have to stop responding to “I miss you” with the same emotional excitement you once had.

Not because you’re bitter.

Not because now, you don’t care anymore.

But because you’ve been taught to pay attention to what comes after the words.

If you miss me, come see me.
If you miss me, make time.
If you miss me, call.
If you miss me, fix what pushed me away.
If you miss me, give me a reason to believe that having me back won’t simply return us to the same old pattern.