Laying in bed at night is when I miss you the most. I miss the pillow talk whispering as we fall asleep. I miss the inadvertant snuggling under the blankets--you know what I mean...where your body just happens to find mine and we become entangled in each other. I miss hearing your rythmic breathing next to me. You would always pull me in so tight while sleeping when we would spoon......He can't replace that. His touch will never be as soft or gentle. His kiss will never be as sincere. His body will never be as warm and comforting. He knows this. He understands when I pull away. He accepts that he will never be comparable to us. He leaves half way through the night if he stays at all. I am left empty. More empty than when he began. I feel just a shell of what I use to be--what I use to feel. What you and I shared is untouchable. I dare not try to replace you as I will only be let down...I just search for a temporary stand-in. He is temporary. He means nothing. He serves his purpose. Do not blame him--he is innocent in this. Blame me for the anger and the hurt I saw in your eyes tonight when you found there had been another in my life. I don't do it to hurt you. I do it to hurt me. I wish you understood that. I need to move on. In order for rebirth, there must be death. Death of perfection for birth of imperfection. Perfection means nothing. Perfection is just a preface to disappointment. Perfection left me unfullfilled.
I sleep in your boxers--the boxers I stole the first time I spent the night at your house 5 years ago. I stop at the perfume counter and sample your cologne every time I go to the mall--just to smell you on my clothes again. Sometimes I leave my dishes in the sink for an extra day--I can still hear you yell at me for it. I still sleep on the extreme right side of the bed--as if you were still right there behind me...
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