The half-eaten Mars bar

There was a Mars bar in your fridge, that had been carefully cut in half. One half was gone. The other… you probably thought you’d have later.
Later arrived, but you weren’t there to see it.
Instead, you left us with an irreplaceable void and a half-eaten Mars bar.
But, we knew you’d want us to fill it and finish it. The void and the half-eaten Mars bar.
Whilst the void of you will never fade or be completely filled, we try – we promise we’re not wasting time.
Also, the other half of the Mars bar was delicious. We didn’t waste that either.

Care

I don’t need to be taken care of,
but,
I’ll always appreciate being looked after.

choosing

one side, whole 
the other, hollow 
together learning 
and never giving up 
together 

choosing grit, dirt and light 
to keep growing 
to keep going 
choosing to trust and to believe 
as it clings on 

T-Shirt

He throws his t-shirt to her waiting to catch. Their eyes glisten for each other before she watches him walk away half-clothed.

She threads his warm cotton t-shirt softly through her hands, slowly rubbing the material between her fingers and thumbs.

Pulling it in closer to her chest, wrapping her arms securely around it, she can smell the flavours of him.  Inhaling chestnut, sweat, and fresh-cut grass, she breathes him in again, and again, exhaling with a satisfied sigh, every time.

Hearing the sound of running water, she deflates, dragging herself back.  Looking down at the t-shirt in her grip, she loosely rolls it up and puts it in the laundry basket.

Ache

Even when it’s right in front of you, there’s that ache – a pang – of missing it when it’s not.

That ache of leaving you behind. Heartbroken. Almost punished.

Yet, what a privilege to feel something like that…

To hold, treasure and love something that much, you constantly long for it. Even when it’s right in front of you.

You just need to remind yourself not to waste it. Any of it. Or to wish those aches away. Even when it’s right in front of you.

Is it weird?

Is it weird to say, I miss you?

to say, I’ve dreamt of this?

                to say, I’ve dreamt of you?

Is it weird to feel like we’ve been this way for years?

For years – not days.

Is it weird to sit side by side in silence, and not have the need to fill it?

Because it’s already full.

Is it weird to say, I feel both free and safe with you?

Because I do.

I’m saying it.

And to me, it doesn’t sound weird at all.

The size of things.

Today, I’m going to think and remember the little things.  The little things which are actually the big things – and should have always been the big things.  The important things.  The vital things.

I’m going to regain focus and just let the other things shrink.  For a while, at least.