Today, lying in the bed I ached to share with you, I wish your legs were intertwined with mine; your feet on top of my feet, your knees bent towards me, feeling the warmth of your skin spooned against mine.

I lay on the side of the bed that you would have slept on and with my eyes closed, imagine your arms around me, and your morning body heavily set against mine until our breaths sync. Your face snuggles into my neck as you sigh and settle into me, comes alive in my memory. Barely awake, I feel you squeeze me, feeling protected.

Standing alone in my kitchen I suddenly crave breakfast. I imagined on Sundays we would throw on whatever clothes happened to be closest to us and get in the car to find pancakes. Sometimes we would sit in silence and other times we would talk and talk about nothing in particular, and you would smile… because we were together and happy just being close to each other.

Outside the air is perfect, the sky above is blue with scattered clouds and there is a slight breeze against my face as I walk the dogs on a trail I wanted to share with you. I imagine holding your hand as we dance in the trees. I think of their smoothness, the security they represented. I loved the way you would grab onto me as if you were afraid of losing me.

I begin think of things we didnt do but could do if you were here. Chances are we’d still be in bed. Our bodies would be close. Your heartbeat would vibrate against my face as I’d lay my head on your bare chest. If it were raining we’d nap in a tent in the yard because you like the sound of the rain as much as I do and wed count drops between kisses. Or we would just lay on the couch and watch a movie. Your head would be in my lap as I’d glide my hands softly across your back until you close your eyes with satisfaction. We would drift into each other without a worry or a care, because we’d know this is just the beginning of forever.

But today you have a new life. You have a new Sunday routine with someone else. Maybe it’s better. Maybe it’s not. But it’s not with me. Maybe you miss me at times. Maybe you want to wake up with me somedays too but that’s not what you chose. Maybe I will have a new Sunday routine with a man who smiles at me like I’m magic and sighs in content with my hugs like you once did. I hope to think of you less and less so my wounded heart can heal. So I eat my pancakes in silence and smile thinking of your kisses.