Missing It

This week, after five months abroad, I find myself increasingly dwelling on the very physical sensation of missing. I think about the university classrooms, the sand on my grandmother's kitchen floor, the intimacy of my two best friends; the three of us rolled up in a hammock together on some childhood beach. I think about K and the years we lived together. My car. My cats. My teens... and I miss. Seriously, I miss.

Lately I've been telling TMI that I miss him when I don't see him for a night or two. He usually doesn't believe me and/or asks me "why" or "what does that mean" or "what type?" ..Are there types of missing? I told him there is no "why," that it's just an uncontrollable physical sensation. Like a headache or an itch or.. the hiccups.

While I believe that to be true, it got me thinking: In what part of our bodies do we feel missing? Love is famously localized to the chest cavity; as is sorrow, excitement, and shock; but missing? What do you feel when you remember the smell of your last apartment? Your brother's laugh at Christmas? Your lover from the night before? An ache in your jaw? A dryness in your throat?

There was a time some months back when I spelled love out for myself the following way: Their wellbeing outweighs your own, you're happy when they're around, and you miss them when they're not. On these terms it was very easy to fall in love. Am I on to something here or am I missing the point?