One More Night

I used to find it hard to fall asleep. Maybe it always happened, or maybe it started when you left. So I created this thing, where I imagined you were still there, taking the space you once occupied, breathing in patches and spits. Being my mountain… and I was there on your chest. Breathing your scent in the nook of your neck where your collarbone split in two.

I could smell you then, feel your chest rise and fall. I’d trace my hands over the hard part of your belly button, count the freckles on your neck. I’d see your ear, feel your curls when I brushed my hand across them. My leg over yours, my body settling into comfort, ready to fall asleep. Our breathing syncing before bed.

Then I’d search for your hand, squeezing your fingertips, something I did to find calm, I know… weird. I’d listen to your breathing, because you always fell asleep before me. And I’d stay awake longer than I should, just to savour it. Because those moments were when I was truly in love. You could have done everything wrong and I would still have loved you. I felt so special being your person.

I’ve kept this so close in my memory. I go back to it when I need to, and it’s still so real it feels like I can reach out and touch you, even though it’s slowly fading.

One more night together. One more, so I can get stronger and finally move on. But for now, feeling you close feels like peace. Feels like you. Feels like love.