My lips still tremble, my hips still thrash, my body still aches, for only you. Only you. Always you.
You didn’t lose love, it’s still here. It still burns brighter than all the stars in the galaxy. Even on the darkest of nights – it’s still there.
You’re my 4 am thoughts, alone in the silence of the night. You’re my 2 pm thoughts, a welcomed distraction in my work day when I’m aching to reach out and rest my hand on your thigh. You’re my 9 am thoughts, craving the warmth of you on all the cold lonely mornings. You’re my 8 pm thoughts, your head in my lap and my fingers through your hair. You’re my 11 pm thoughts, my fingertips aching for your skin to draw you impossibly closer.
If I squeeze my eyes shut, I can pretend your body is right here beside me again. I can pretend your hand is inches from mine, waiting for me to take it. I can reach out and feel your warmth. But then I open my eyes. It’s cold. And I’m numb.
“I’m giving up,” she finally cried.
But, still, she tucked the only key to her heart right there under the welcome mat – nestled safely for if her lover were to someday return. To someday come back home.
Jolting awake from the darkest of nightmares. Ones that petrify you and leave you with the taste of lead in your mouth. Or stirring from the warmth and goodness of a magical dream. One where you’ve come back to me. One where I can kiss you.
Either way, I can’t reach out and feel you. I can’t be settled. The unrest only lingers. And it all hurts just the same.
I wonder how many more planes I’ll watch—flying overhead just before they touch down—until I stop hoping one would bring you back to me.