I loose you all over again

There are mornings when I wish I could open my eyes and see you before I see the dog and cat.

I want to see messy your messy hair and tired eyes; and to hear you say “good morning” like it’s the most ordinary thing in the world.

I want those little moments—lying beside you for five more minutes that become twenty because neither of us wants to move. Feeling your warmth. Reaching for you without thinking because you’re just… there.

I know wanting that badly enough doesn’t make it possible. I know there are things bigger than what I want. I know loving someone doesn’t always mean you get to keep them.

I fucking know.

I just wish knowing made it hurt less.

Because sometimes I close my eyes and imagine you beside me. Your breathing. Your warmth. Your hand finding me in the middle of the night.

For a few seconds, I let myself believe you stayed. That this is our life.

Then I open my eyes, and there’s this space between us, filled with the moments I wish I could take back.

Because every night, I close my eyes and put you back beside me.

And every morning, I wake up and lose you all over again.

(I borrowed this from a posting and made it fit my heart, because I’ve been trying to write how I truly feel every morning, thank you : to the original author )