Thursday, February 28, 2002


February 25-28, 2002 (revised August 14, 2007)

I miss her...
All of them...
None of them...
Okay, certain things about them...

I miss being held just long enough
for her perfume to cling to my clothes...

After she leaves, I can still smell her fragrance
for hours and hours, especially as I'm curled up
in bed wishing she was with me.

I miss the feeling of cool air on my skin
on the exact spot where she just kissed me.
My lips, my cheek, my forehead, my neck...

Waking up to the gentle touch of her lips as she
places a blanket over me.

I miss the inside jokes...
The shared strangeness...
The rituals, the habits, the insecurities...

Seeing her completely naked beside me except for a pair
of ankle high purple wool socks because, for some reason,
she doesn't like feet.

I miss the pet names and the sexual banter...

Sometimes, when we made love, she would make
this purring sound behind clenched teeth.
I could never do it. It was kind of weird...
...but also endearing.

I miss the passionate declarations of love,
less spoken than exhaled with warm breath
against my ear and my chest...

She would walk into my room wearing one of my
only one of my shirts--smiling at me
like a child that has just gotten away with something.

I miss falling asleep in her arms and knowing
in my dreams that she was still with me...

She once said to me, "I watch you when you sleep.
I can tell when your completely under and when
your medicine wears off. You're asleep the whole
time, but then you seem peaceful."
I miss being vulnerable without worrying about what
she thought because I already knew that she loved me.

But what I miss more than anything
is the one thing I can never get back...

I miss the period in my life when I had no idea
what any of these things felt like.