850 Miles

You've always been some 850 miles away from me. But since I've known about you I've always felt your presence. It's like you're a part of me, 850 miles within me. You've been the air I breathe, 850 miles around me. And when our li'l accident happened, my mind raced 850 miles in a second, reaching for you and surrounding you to get consumed. By you.

And ever since these rapid lines of contact became my lifelines, everytime your presence ceases to flow through them, to reach me and fill my mind, I feel uneasy. Accustomed to moving at 850miles/sec, I suddenly feel still. I feel still. I feel unusually still, uncomfortably still. Like those 850 miles just snapped and now I don't know where we are nor where I am. I feel afar. I feel like I am 850 miles away from you.