You let me into your bed, and I let you into my heart. If I close my eyes for long enough I can feel your wet hair on my neck again. Again. But thinking of you feels foreign. There once was a time when I categorised and mapped-out your every feature, and now my mind battles to compile images of you. “Close your eyes for a bit longer. Wish a bit harder.” I don’t know what’s more difficult- getting to sleep or waking up. Both would be easier with you by my side. I forgot what your warm body feels like against mine; faintly radiating heat. Waking up to dark circles and smudged black lines of make-up dancing around my eyelids. Sleep deprived. Deprived. No amount of 11:11 wishes are going to rescue you, kid. Downing a shot too many of strong alcohol your stomach can’t stand leaves your throat feeling the same way extensive amounts of muffled screaming does. Wrung-out, dry, missing. I remember the night I cried for six hours straight, and somehow still managed to find more tears available for use when I woke up. I’m startled so easily. I wince at the sound of a closing fridge door. I need to go sleep. “Close your eyes for a bit longer. Wish a bit harder.”

I miss you.

Notes

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