I think I've fallen already,
because I keep waiting for you to pull away,
and just the thought of that has me crippled.

We found each other in the crevices of our hearts.

Monday,
starting the week with a kiss good morning and the scent of breakfast blend in the air.
No time for eggs, we'll settle for Eggos and Poptarts.
A hurried goodbye and meaningful promises to return soon.

Tuesday,
waking up late,
****,
going in in a rush, no time for a shower,
quick kiss and we're out the door.

Wednesday,
traffic is crazy, no break today.
In a hurry to get back home.

Thursday,
leftovers again, really wanting to spend all day together,
only cuddling close at night.

Friday,
longer with the promise of an enjoyable presence tonight.
A romantic comedy, maybe,
some homemade spaghetti and a glass of wine,
relaxing into each other's curves late into the evening.

Saturday,
No time to rest, so many plans been made,
maybe dropping by IHOP and laughing at the complicated orders.
Hanging with family or friends, visiting the city,
coming home and getting warm, playing games and feeding the cats.
Gentle teasing making the night right.

Sunday,
Brushing the hair out of your face and laughing because we woke up at noon.
Making a big breakfast because we'll feed ourselves and our friends, assuming we ever leave the house.
Spending most of the day lazing around and watching cheesy horror movies, yelling at the protagonists for being stupid, making a big dinner to last us the week
and accidentally saying "good morning" instead of "goodnight" because it's past our bedtime and we're closer to the weekend.

A life of love,
because we have each other.

I honestly kind of thought it would hurt more when we parted forever but I miss you in the way someone misses their old house after a move.
If they went back to it, it would look basically the same on the outside but the house wouldn't be at all the same on the inside. The new inhabitants would have changed everything since they'd been gone. Walls that once hung photographs and other captured memories would be eerily bare. The air wouldn't have the same warmth because it's set at a different temperature now, and worst of all the people that were always kept safely inside the house will not be there anymore. I t would be the same house, but not the same house at all. Not the same home, anyway. It's quite the same with you. You look the same but are not inside. Parts of you are missing, precious memories you held and treasured have faded, you've grown cold inside and you don't hold the same people you used to love in your heart anymore. People like me. You are the same girl, but not the same person. I'll miss you, the old you, but I lost the old you a long, long time ago.