little reminders.
I came home tonight and tears filled my eyes when I saw them—your hairs sprinkled across my bathroom counter and sink. Not in a “Ew, gross” kind of way, but just little reminders of that morning. You stood there at the sink, running my lavender comb through your beautiful short curls, some of which abandoned ship and fled to find a new home upon my counter; perhaps they jumped in hopes that I would wipe them from existence into my garbage can. You stood there at the sink, filling its white porcelain bowl with water in which to dip your razor as your face went from scruffy to soft. I crept in, wrapping my arms around your waist, staring at our smiling faces reflected back in the mirror in front of us. You spilled water on the green bathroom rug. You didn’t know that the cap of the shampoo bottle that you had grabbed was capable of holding so much water. My feet got wet. I scolded you, but couldn’t help but laugh. You looked happy. We kissed. I wiped the floor with a purple hand towel. It’s still on the floor. Just little reminders of that morning.
I came home tonight and tears filled my eyes when I breathed in—your scent lingered across my pillows and sheets. Not in a “Ew, gross” kind of way, but just little reminders of that night. You laid there, with your head resting upon your left hand, your right hand tenderly touching my own. Your eyes were captivated by the film, its image reflecting onto your old and worn glasses. I laid on my back with my left leg tucked underneath my right one, with my head turned toward the television. But every so often I would glance at you, trying to see if the film affected you as it did me. Your mouth remained still and emotionless. You remained still as I cried, as I fled the bed to hide in the bathroom and wipe my eyes. You made shadow puppets on the wall to make me smile. I laughed and cried and laughed and cried, all in the same breaths. You pressed your lips against my temple. You told me stories of your childhood. You told me stories of your lost love. You kept touching my hair. You wiped my eyes. We kissed. My head rested on your chest. Your head rested on my pillow. Your scent seeped into its white and green fabric. I still smell as it as I try to fall asleep. Just little reminders of that night.
9 months ago • 0 notes