It goes without saying that I miss the people that once populated my everyday. Beyond them, I find myself missing the sensations and places that marked my quotidian experiences.

I miss browsing at second hand book stores; I miss the loud mechanical humming of espresso makers and the reading, writing & the smell of bread of my regular coffee shops; I miss smiling at strangers and even the occasional friction of bumping into them and brushing past past them; I miss my rushed walks to class and even my commute; I miss the moment when someone wearing a really luxurious perfume or cologne passes by and hanging back for a second while inhaling the fragrance of them; I miss driving my friends home; I miss the sticky vinyl of bar booths on my thighs; I miss the stale smell of a thrift shop; I miss my Titi Wanda’s garden and especially her plants growing in cracker tins; I miss sitting on my abuela’s balcony in Gurabo, tasting the salty and humid air, and the chatter of roosters; I miss listening to a long playlist on a long drive; I miss my morning make up ritual; I miss dinner dates with Gabe and ordering our favorite drinks; I miss it all and it’s hard not to mourn knowing some of it is gone and permanently irretrievable.