I swear that we’re fine.
He’s great. He is kind, and he gives his entire heart to everything that he does. He doesn’t hesitate to do the right thing in any situation. I’m pretty sure that he would literally take the shirt off of his own back if someone was in need of it. He makes me laugh. And when he hears me laugh, he gets this goofy (and quite adorable) grin.
But it doesn’t quite make his eyes crinkle like yours-and it is missing that quirky little gap between your two front teeth that you can only see if you look for it.
When we say goodbye, I can see the hesitation in his eyes as he kisses my cheek. But when he finally turns away, there is no lingering along the sidewalk outside of my apartment. Every time I see his back cross the street, I close my door.
With you, it took longer for me to let go of your hand than it did for me to fall asleep without you after that first night. You couldn’t get more than a few steps down the street without turning back, your eyes wide and playful as you walked backwards, away from our memories. And I was always leaning outside my apartment door, smiling back.
He makes me happy. There is no denying that. The moments we share are a little brighter than those surrounding it.
But you filled the space from breath to breath.
When I see his name flash across my phone screen, there is a pause before I press the accept button. Sometimes, I don’t press any button, just letting the crude sounds of the phone ringing scrape against my ears.
With you, I couldn’t get to the phone fast enough. Even today, after everything that has happened between us, I would still answer your call without thinking twice.
He brightens up my day a bit, like a flashlight showing the path of my journey through the world.
You were the sun, lighting up not only my path, but the beauty of the world around it.
He never lets me walk away angry. He pulls me back and makes me talk. Our arguments are quiet and civil, like we are negotiating our happiness. But underneath that smile I gave him, a grudge would build.
After some of our fights, I was hoarse from screaming at you. We would go hours without looking at each other. But all it took was a light touch, a tentative smile, and a scared look in your eyes, and I would melt, all anger flooding out of me. The idea that you would be scared of losing me cut me to the core.
But I guess you grew out of that.
Because you’re not here.