I miss life.

i miss being happy. i mean true, pure, happiness. as i lay in bed for weeks at a time, i miss feeling the warm sun on my skin. i miss breathing in the cold fresh air. i miss smiling at strangers in the street. i miss bobbing my knee and listening to my favourite song through my earphones as i watch the views skim past my eyes on a fast moving train. i miss the tightening feeling in my lungs when running on the treadmill in the gym. i miss walking through the woods and spending hours going back and forth, back and forth on that little abandoned swing i found, leaning back and staring straight up at the sun peaking through the tree branches. i miss walking to the top of a snowy hill just to admire the glistening view from above before sliding back down. i miss the laughter as i desperately pulled my sister down the street in a broken sled meant for children half our size. i miss bouncy castles and bike rides at the park. i miss random shopping trips and long drives where we could doze off in the car. i miss ice cream by the beach. i miss life before this illness took over. the one that consumes your whole life until every waking moment is nothing more than a painful reminder of how much you're missing.