I saw stars tonight under a different sky and I wondered if when you looked at them you wondered if I thought of you too.
You should be here. Wherever I am. You should be here.
I wish I’d talked more. I knew we wouldn’t have much time and looking back I realise I was perhaps too comfortable with the silence.
You made it too easy for me to be me. You made me feel like it was OK to only speak if I had something to say; like I wasn’t just around to fill the silence.
I wish I’d said more though. If I regret anything I regret that.
I just wanted you to know.
I tried to look for someone else’s words to sum up what I wanted to say but I couldn’t find anything that fit. Perhaps because I’m not even sure what it is I’m trying to articulate.
Something about - I miss us.
Something about - I wish I didn’t feel the need to keep writing these notes to you.
Something about - I didn’t have a bad day but I wish you were here to make things better.
Something about - It’s exhausting, all this wishing for the impossible.
Something about - there is a hole inside me that just seems to get bigger and I know it’s not meant to be that way.
Maybe I’m just tired.
I just wanted to say good morning, like most mornings; sometimes at this ridiculous hour when it’s so quiet I wonder if you can almost hear my thoughts, and sometimes when the whole world is awake and I have to whisper it out loud.
Good morning, my love.
Tonight I sleep outside under the stars, listening to the waves break on the shore while the blues play on the stereo, and as I do I think of you and wish that you were here too.
I miss you. No matter how much either of us wishes I didn’t. I do.
I wonder if there will come a time when I’ll wake at 5am and you won’t be the first thing I think of.
I wonder if my brain has trained itself to go directly to the memory of you because it knows that you are my only coherent thought; the calm amid the din that will allow it to wade slowly through the wee hours until the fog lifts.
This morning it hurts that you’re not here. I don’t know why that is. I feel like this longing should have subsided. It makes no sense. It was a lifetime ago.
I wonder if I’ll ever stop loving you.
So far all indications point to no.
Still mean it.
Maybe this is better. Your life would have been so different. Too different. And you would have carried a sadness that I couldn’t help. And that sadness would have turned into resentment. And perhaps that resentment would have turned into anger. And that would have destroyed the very life we wanted for ourselves.
But maybe, just maybe, you would have liked your alternative life. Maybe you wouldn’t have been sad. Maybe you wouldn’t have ended up resenting me. Maybe the change would have worked out fine. Better, even. Maybe we would have been happy; happy like we know we can be, like we had been.
But we’ll never know.
I want you to know that I wish I’d had the chance to have fought for you. Because I would have. But I couldn’t without ruining everything. And i didn’t wanna do that. But I would have.
And sometimes I feel like that opportunity was stolen from me.x
It’s late. As usual. I write because I can’t sleep. And so I will be able to sleep. Or that’s the theory anyway. I’m not sure what it is that’s keeping me up tonight, but i know it’s not you. I do wish you were here though to calm the noise in my head.
That darn cat waltzed in about an hour ago with complete disregard for my insomnia and lay herself down on the pillow next to me where your head should be. Now she taunts me with her steady purring and peaceful slumber, reminding me that I’m not asleep and you’re not next to me. I haven’t the heart to put her out. I wish I did though.
It’s pleasantly warm tonight. It’s nights like this that I wish my bed were next to the window, like it was when you were here, but I moved it shortly after you left and I haven’t got it in me to move it back. I’ve taken to just leaving the window open. Possibly not the safest option but the cat likes it so there’s that.
I need to be awake in fewer hours than I care to think about so perhaps I’ll give sleep another go. I think this has helped.
I feel like I need to apologize for what I said about the goodbyes. I shouldn’t have said don’t do it. If you need to do it, if it helps you get past this, then that’s fine, you do what you gotta do.
Just don’t do it for my sake is all.