So much like me

Half past 3 a.m., I’m flat on my back, and I miss your deep breathy voice from the pillow next door to mine. I miss being able to tuck my hand under your shoulder or hitch my knee up over your thigh. I miss your warmth. I miss the way your heartbeat always seemed to steady right before you kissed me goodnight.

The quiet way your hands ran circles over my hips never went unnoticed. My fingertips still remember the gentle way you leaned into my touch. Not a night goes by when I’m not aching for your body to be close to mine.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Mmmmm, just you.” I would murmur as a sleepy grin turned up the corners of my lips. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that I could get used to this…”

I just miss you so terribly. I miss the ribcage festivals and collarbone symphonies. I miss the way we fit, the way our hearts hummed to one another, the way it was just you and me and not a single interruption. You lit up the darkness and cast away lonely. We shone brilliantly even in complete darkness. I could have gotten used to that, too. Until you laid down in my arms, I never knew that I could love someone so much like me.


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