The First Morning...

This was the first morning since we met that I didn’t wake to a message from you (though I still reached for my phone, all the same). Which means that it’s also the first morning that you’ll wake without something from me. I’m still at a loss for how to not have you here, so I decided to do this, to post these letters to you, like messages in a bottle, tossed out into the wide sea of the ether. I don’t know how, or even if, they’ll ever reach you, but if there’s even a chance that they can, and they bring you some peace, I can’t not, right? Besides, I have a lifetime’s worth of words in my heart for you, and they have to go somewhere.

As we talked for what neither of us hopes is the last time yesterday, I watched the sun slowly disappear from the world, until, by the end, the only light left by which to see your face was the illumination coming from my own on your phone as you held it so close that I could see the tears rolling down it, even through my own, as you whispered how much you love me, and called me yours. It was a lot like the first time you said it, at the end of another call that could have gone on for days, were it not for the unfortunate impediments of fickle things like time and space. I watched your image fade, then go dark, and then I curled up and cried for a long time, not because I’ll never see you again, because I hope beyond all measure that I will, but because I will miss you fiercely until I do. Because no matter where you are, come what may, I will love you, now and always, and I’ll be right here, should you come to find me again.