Mornings

I miss you most in the mornings. Nowadays, I wake up alone in my own bed, looking outside of the window at the reddish blue sky.

Somedays when I do not turn on the air conditioning, I wake up with the same humid air on my skin, and the feeling of unbearable warmth as my stale sweat sticks to my back.

I think of the mornings when we woke up side by side, on that mattress of yours in your rented room.

I miss your warmth. I miss your laugh. I miss your big smile and your twinkling eyes as you laughed at me. I miss laughing together with you, at something, at nothing, at each other, at myself.

I miss you pointing at your own tummy and complaining that you are fat. Right before we parted, I had said your tummy looked bigger than normal. Maybe it was inflated in my eyes by our impending parting of ways; in reality it was probably not too different from normal.

I still think you are very beautiful, and I am still very much in love with you, but differently. Now, I'm in love with you but willing to let you go, to let you do what you have and want to, and for me to move on with my own life.

I hope you are happy, and I sincerely wish for you to be happy, to be free from anger, fear, the feelings of insecurity.

And when your feelings of annoyance subside, drop me a line. Hopefully we can be friends again.