Letters I Will Never Send (III): I Used To...

I used to wake up every morning with you in my bed.

I would stroke your hair and kiss you as many times as I dared--on your cheek, on your neck, on your temple, in your hair.

I almost had to force myself to leave the bed every morning, leave the warmth and scent of you, leave the sound of your heartbeat and the safety of your arms around me.

Even as I moved about in the darkness, my eyes were drawn to you, and, no matter how little sleep I’d gotten, the sight of you would make me smile.

When there was no time left for lingering, I would ask you for a hug and a kiss goodbye.

And, every morning as I left, I would kiss you, and whisper “I love you.”

Sometimes, you would smile in your sleep when I did.

And, every time, I held hope that you would whisper it back.