I keep thinking about how his warm body feels against mine. How I fit into the crook of his body – how warm his skin feels on mine – how comforting and safe I feel with his arms wrapped around me and mine around his as I listen to his breath and we drift to sleep.
There are times when I cannot sleep that I lay there, with my eyes closed, thinking about that. I imagine he is next to me. And it is not a pillow I am cuddled up to – but him. I imagine his breathing – I imagine matching my breath to his as his arms hold me tight against his chest. And I sleep.
Even awake, my mind fills in the dialog as my day goes one. One day someone commented about how other should be thankful she has to come to work without a weapon – and I immediately filled in his words in response – words that are purely his words. And it does not stop there. I find myself saying things that I have heard him say so many times, they are now part of me. I find myself remarking in my head things I would say to him – that I cannot say to others.
All of this is powered by the fact I feel him all of the time. I feel him with me – I reach out to him in my mind and my heart when things come up that he will understand – he will appreciate. A song comes on the radio – and it reminds me of time we have had – time we have shared. And I smile –
What can I say – I miss him. Things are askew without him.
I just have to remind myself that he is with me – just as much as I am with him.