Monday, January 19, 2009

♥I miss him when I can't sleep
(like now, and yesterday, and the day before that)

I miss how my hands would search him out in the middle of the night
a small reassurance of his presence, which lulled me to sleep
(they still wander in my sleep, unsurprised at not finding him there)

I miss him when I find myself eating some scrap of something or other over the kitchen sink
so painfully aware that I am alone

I miss the casualness of dinner plans
always knowing that it would involve him and laughter and a sense of comfort that now feels so distant

I miss him when I think of something clever to say and find that I am without an audience
and with the knowledge that my random messages to him are no longer welcomed
or anticipated
(as they once were)

When every thing is quiet (though never my thoughts), is when I miss him the most

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