mornings

My phone rings each and every morning, and I reach my hand out, because I know by instinct where it is. I push the talk button and usually make a sound so he knows I am there. and he makes the same sound back. it’s the sound that says ‘I wish you were here’ I know his eyes are closed too. We are picturing the same thing, us together, in the same bed. his arms around me. feeling each others warmth. Feeling our hearts beating together.

He whispers he loves me, and I say it back. imagining tightening my arms around him because I hear him roll onto his back. I squeeze my pillow pretending it is him. wanting him to stay in bed just a little while longer. I hear him say he has to go to work, but know he doesn’t want to ruin the moment. If I am awake enough I am sneaky enough to do something or say something to get another minute of this peace. But some mornings, I am too tired to use my brain. He says he loves me, and I imagine him giving me a squeeze, and kissing my forehead. We exchange I love you’s and be safes, and hang up the phone.

My eyes open. I know he is out of bed, looking back at the now empty bed; he wishes I was in it. I wish I was in it. I give him sad eyes, because although he cant see me, I know he knows what I am doing. Just as I know what he is doing.

I go back to sleep, he goes off to work.

I wake up again an hour or so later, by myself. Wishing I was waking up in his bed.

I miss him. I miss him terribly, every single morning.