In which I talk about you again.
I was eating dinner in front of the television when it hit me. You again. I cannot remember the last time I did remember but tonight was pretty timely considering the fact that I am doing well.
You did not contact me. I did not hear a song. I wasn’t watching anything. But you came to mind and I was reminded of the hundred thousand ways we loved. Of the thumping heartbeats filling the room as we shared the night before you flew back to your home, lightyears away from my bed. Of the time I thought love is a war I have to be in every time and always come home wounded. Of the text you sent before you stepped on that plane saying I miss you already. I love you, I love you, I love you so bad.
Most of all your ghost reminded me of the one thing I hold on to up to now: I did not want to die waiting for you.