How I Miss You
I awoke to the sound of my alarm ringing and not to your body's warmth as how the sunlight would illuminate the room to welcome another new day with you.
The bed feels larger than I am still used to, and for the first time, stretching my legs across the bed felt less satisfying than it used to prior to having you in my life.
The birds are chirping and I can hear the leaking of a tap I have never took notice of. The absence of your voice has left a void with nothing to bounce off the walls except for my thoughts that I avoid having in the mornings.
As I brush my teeth, my eyes slowly scan through the bathroom, slowly making a list of items that are now in pairs. Toothbrushes, towels, two different bathing gels, two different facial washes.. How ironic that someone walking out of your life completely would leave so many items that triggers playbacks of rose tinted memories.
It's 9 in the morning and I have no unread messages. A conversation would usually be brewing between us by now as I have my coffee, informing each other of the day's upcoming events and reminders of how much we have missed each other while in midst of slumber. However as the coffee brews this morning, so do my thoughts. I wonder if you have the same difficulty of beginning your day without listing out your tasks to me- my life seems to be in a mess without narrating my plans for the day out to you.
The rest of the day plays in the foreground with my endless sighs as background music. Everything seems pointless and lacks importance as it used to hold. "I'm going through the motions but I don't feel like trying," I repeat to myself over and over at the end of each seemingly redundant task. Food is bland, and every time something mildly interesting happens- I instinctively think of sharing it with you, but always manage to stop myself in time before allowing unneeded feelings to arise. I absentmindedly reminisce of your smile and imagine your reaction if I had indeed shared a joke with you- a fantasy that will remain as that, and a dull ache strikes a sharp reminder of how I have to move on. I shrug you off my mind for the 54th time of the day and light another cigarette as I head back home early again this week. My schedule had been adjusted around yours and nothing seems worth it to replace time spent with you, for now.
I order takeout as cooking for one is more effort than it's worth, and as I watch our favourite tv series- the latest episode I had downloaded then for us to watch over our weekly dinners, the void of loneliness overwhelms me as I glance at the empty seat on the couch and for the first time since you had left, I broke down. The crying would not stop and I had begun chiding myself to stop the tears that have now resulted into heavy sobs. I cave and reach for my phone. You are still on my speed dial and when I hear your voice, the realization of how much I had missed you shocks me. I mumble a few "I shouldn't have called" and "I just missed you" and a few more "I'm sorry" and hung up clumsily. I hastily clean up and look forward to ending another dreaded day. I find myself contemplating calling someone to rant about how I miss you, but decided against annoying my friends yet again- they don't need to hear about my problems against theirs. I fill a bag with everything you have left in my house and throw it away. It makes me feel mildly better, shoulders a little lighter.
And as I tuck myself into bed for yet another night which I suspected will only end in the wee hours of the morning, I do my best to wrap the blanket around my shoulders to mimic your arms, and fail miserably. It's 4 in the morning when I finally find myself drifting into sleep and I make a final quick prayer to no one in particular with desperation laced that maybe tomorrow I'll wake up and begin to let go of you. This is how I miss you.