It's always the little things that end up making me miss you so much more than I did that current day.
Little things like, hearing your voice, seeing you smile so wide every time you saw me, the smell of your cologne, the sound of your not-so-quiet snore, the way my hand fit so perfectly when I held your hand, waking up next to you on sunny mornings, saying the words "I love you" at the end of each phone call, the way you held me, the moments when I had to make noodles for you because you got hungry, the tattoo on your right hand, the way our lips felt against one another, the days that you would wear that blue sweater I got for you, the sound of your heartbeat, the stupid arguments we would have like what to watch on Netflix, seeing your name pop up in my phone and hearing your one tone laugh.
It's the details that always get to me...
YOU ARE READING
it was you, always...
Poesíait was always you and me. it was always going to be us against the world. we were so in love and had the whole world ahead of us. but... now that its not, what am I suppose to do?
