I am experiencing loneliness tonight.
I can no longer wake up in the middle of the night and kiss you on your lips. The bed is not familiar; I cannot sleep well. Now, a bed is a bed, I can only sleep there, no more sweet memories of pillow fights and cuddling.
When you come home from work, I can no longer run to you with a big hug. I start to appreciate how many plates and glasses you use; I would rather wash them all for you than being all alone and not having to wash a thing.
I miss tying your tie before you go to work, the kisses in between and the compliments you gave me after it gives me the greatest start of the morning. I wish I had tied all the ties for you before I left, so that you can just tighten the knot around your neck every day like my love always hold around your neck.
My father is snoring in another bedroom righ now. It reminds me of how I used to squeeze you nose a little and then you would stop. Your snoring has never been too loud or intolerable, and it satisfies my desire to just laugh at you a little bit the next morning. The guilty look you have when you say sorry is always cute.
I love it when you look at me with amazement and say I look stunning. When I first arrived home and met my mom, I had some well-intentioned comments and advice that I had put on some weight and better get rid of that as soon as possible. I was even urged to step on a scale to face the reality. Yes, I have put on 4 pounds and I have lost the eyes which say "You are the Queen of my Heart."
I no longer make scrambled eggs, because you are not there to appreciate and have our very romantic breakfast before you go to work. It's you who turned me into liking well done scrambled eggs instead of the runny ones. It's us who discovered that perfect scrambled eggs should have hot dogs, mozzarella cheese and chicken broth. I miss our little daily routine, because that is how we lived together.
I miss you.