Today missing you was a tangible, touchable thing.
I ran small errands for you. It’s the first time you’ve ever asked me for anything. I was ecstatic to be able to do something, anything for you. The temperature outside was perfect. I love the ocean. It reminds me of you. I always feel closest to you when I can smell the salt tang of the ocean.
When we’re an ocean away, that’s how I’ll get by.
Busy days, for both of us. You, exhausted, telling me about your day. Family gatherings. Climbing into bed.
Me, jealous of those sheets. The ones you curl up in, snuggle into, fall asleep on. Sheets that touch you but not me. They’ve never held the memory of us together. They know your body but not mine.
But they’ll keep you warm until it’s my turn again.