It's the Little Things

May 21, 2009

This sucks.

All I do is sit around and think thoughts that I can't share with you anymore. If I watch a movie and see something I think is great, I can't tell you. If I saw a really funny commercial, I can't tell you. If I hear a song that I know would rock your socks off, I can't tell you. If I do really well at a game I'm playing, you're not here to congratulate me and give me that kiss on the cheek that made it all worth it.

All that and I'm sleeping alone. It's weird. I wish you were here to crawl into bed after I'm asleep and steal half the covers. I want to wake up slightly annoyed and then be relieved because now I have to curl up really close to you to be under the blanket. I want your hair to tickle my nose until I bury it in your shoulder and fall asleep thinking about how good you smell. I wanna do that thing that we always did when we went to bed around the same time, where you throw your leg over my leg and we both lay there until we kind of doze off, but then one of us has to roll over, so we both roll over. I want to wake up with your ice cold toes pressed against my thigh.

Tomorrow's another day. I'm thankful for movies like High Fidelity and Forgetting Sarah Marshall. They make me feel normal for a while.