Last night you visited me again. We have not been seeing each other now as often as we did in the past, but last night you were here. I clearly remember the smell of your hair, and how soft your skin is. The sound of your laughter and the touch of your hands.
As hazy as dreams are, you were here for just a minute but we were together for hours. I guess dreams have these time-paradoxes our waking selves don’t.
So today, I woke up longing for you.
We didn’t say goodbye last time we saw each other, we didn’t know it was going to be the last time. I don’t talk about you with anyone. You’re a story I keep to myself. I could never share my feelings about you with anyone else. I just don’t think they’d understand and I don’t think I could express them in a way that would make them justice.
So today, I woke up longing for you.
Every now and then, I catch glimpses of you. I catch them when a random song comes up and reminds me of the time you explained to me why that song is one of the greatest songs ever written. I catch them when I stop by the bookstore on my way home and even though I only read kindles now, I go in and browse the novels section. You liked the smell of new books and so do I.
I catch them when I’m walking down the street on a sunny and brisk autumn morning. The wind is cold and brown leaves are falling from the trees. I’m at peace and I wish you were here.
So today, I woke up longing for you.
