Missing you

I walked out to the beach and you were there.  I could feel you beside me as I walked, you kept bumping into me that way you do as you’re distracted by the beauty and wonder, forgetting where you are. Not here, but in the back of my memory.

I look at the seashells scattered on the beach and hold out my hand as you dart from cache of tragically perfect or beautifully flawed works of nature back to my hand, as each one is drying slowly in my upturned palm, I see you smile up at my face. Not here, but in my memory. 

I looked up at the seabirds dancing on the sky, screeching and graceful in the chaos of their swooping flight and I heard you exclaim, beautiful! Not here, but in my thoughts.

I see two lovers kiss and I feel your lips on mine, as you squeeze my hand with a question mark on your face, I smile a response to your offer.  Not here, but in my fantasy.

I hear your light intake of breath at the beauty of the sun slipping below the ocean and feel your soft breath on my ear as you hug me close as it disappears completely. Not here, but in my heart. 

As I lay down at night and think of sleep and dreams to come, I hear your soft snore, smell your warm sweetness, and feel your leg on my hip as I hold you in my arms. Not here, but someday. 

When I woke, I lay there and thought of you and the empty feeling in my heart that comes when you leave, as if you took a piece of my heart with you when you left.

I know that piece of my heart that you took with you; reminds you to eat lunch, it strokes your hair and kisses your tears away when you’re sad, it bites your neck and says rude things in hopes that they make you smile. 

And I know that you left a piece of your with me, it’s that piece of your heart that keeps me company and watches over me and caresses my thoughts when I miss you.

©The Autobiography of Mr. Perfect, 2016

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