People say it’s Sunday.
To me, it’s just another day without you.
Without you sleeping peacefully by my side.
Without you hogging most of the blanket as if your life depends on it.
Without you safely wrapped in my arms for most of the day.
Without you making pointless yet enjoyable conversations with me.
Without you giggling at me for no reason every now and then.
Without you making a sarcastic remark whenever I say something stupid.
Without you cooking us a simple yet heartwarming breakfast.
Without you blushing whenever you catch me staring at you.
Without you making a cute mad face when you’re angry at me for something.
Without you raising your angelic voice at me to prove a point.
Without you pouting to get your way, which you always do.
Without you grinning like a goof after every argument.
Without you humming, or even singing, a tune from a song you hear on the radio.
Without you constantly seducing me, then hiding just to tease me.
Without you roaming your hands all over my body, softly clawing at my skin.
Without you purring when I plant kisses all around your beautiful body.
Without you making a conversation between your lips and mines.
Without you gasping for air as you give yourself to me over and over again.
Without you whispering my name repeatedly, driving me over the edge.
Without you writhing vulnerably beneath me as we both go into a state of euphoria.
Without you saying the three magical words that makes my heart transform into a drum.
Without you making me feel like the luckiest bastard in the world.
Without you breathing and living.
Yeah, another day without you.
