Memories of you

The indented furniture where you slept, the throw blankets you respectfully folded and placed on my couch, the bobby pin laying on the bathroom floor from when I removed the scarf from my hair moments before we kissed, the crushed side of the pouf where you sat while putting on your shoes during those last 5 minutes we had together, the love song you sent while driving to Ohio... These are the only tangible proofs that I have of you from when you were in my home. You gave me memories as well. You, sprawled face down on the couch, covered in heaps of soft cream colored pillows. I couldn't stand for you to be cold so I blanketed you with my favorite gray falsa blanket while you slept. I remember how beautiful your body looked laying on my favorite piece of furniture and how lovely you sounded while waking in the morning as I listened to you stir from my bed upstairs. Your compliment of how peaceful it was waking to the sound of the wind and how you said my goose down couch was the most comfortable couch you'd ever slept on; I felt so proud that you were warm and cozy here. My womanly instincts beamed at the way you sincerely meant, "This house is SWEET" as you looked around one last time. I worked so hard the day before to make it cozy in preparation for your arrival. Fresh flowers on the table, clean floors, fresh laundry, soothing smells.... I'd always wanted you to see my space, ever since you were still local years ago. I even stocked the fridge with food for you, of which you refused but that's okay. These are the lingering gifts you gave to me. The song, most notably because that one hit the hardest. I've listened to it every morning and hum it throughout the day. That, I'm most thankful for because songs are your love language. I hope you come back someday.

I love you, K. I'm looking forward to my second life with you, whenever it may be.