Let him miss you
Let him roll over in the morning to find you gone, your absence filling the empty side of the bed like a flood
He will drown before he even wakes up
Let him know what it's like to have the sheets to himself when his hands reach out and find too much space to grab, a vacant imprint of you still on the mattress
Let him crave the hold of your body against his, laying down, molded together in unison
Let him miss the crook of your neck and how his face fit perfectly in it like a hollowed shell
Let him miss your skin and his own announcement of its softness
Let him miss how fingers would run swiftly along the folds and creases
Let him miss the tracing of your veins that led him home, a purple and blue reminder of familiarity
Let him miss your legs folding between his while sleeping
Let him miss your breath in his ear
Let him miss your words blanketing around his fears and his stresses, how your language was the only kind capable of calming
Let him miss your comfort like a Midwest winter without a fireplace to lay in front of, like below zero temperatures with a broken furnace in charge of heating the air
Let him feel his heart leave his chest when he thinks he sees you at the store, at a concert, bar, restaurant, all of the places he knows you aren't
He will look for you anyway
Let his lips mumble your memory with every shot of whisky that meets them
Let him taste you with each cigarette he smokes with the intention of forgetting
Let him hear your voicemail when he calls you at 3 am
Let him leave his drunken words to a mailbox you will never check
Let him say your name in his sleep
Let him wonder where you are tonight
Let him feel your ache in every muscle, every bone, every limb
Let him wonder if you're aching too
But don't give him the satisfaction of knowing you are
Don't tell him you are splitting like the red sea, your heart spilling as it parts
Don't let him know you are near freezing to death without palms to protect you from the cold, how this December was one for the records
You will look back and wonder how you ever managed to survive
Don't let him know that getting up and out of bed is a ropes course you are still trying to complete
Don't let him know that every bit of ink made permanent on your body is too much reminder to look at, that the words are growing with unwanted by the second
Don't let him know that tonight you are too far from the sun to expand
You are shrinking from the darkness and you don't know how to let the light back in
Don't let him believe that your smile is anything but a portfolio of happiness
Don’t let him know that your laugh is merely a symphony crafted from regret
Don't let him know that he is the ringing in your ear that refuses to go away like a migraine, bringing blurry vision and a pain in the back of your head
Don’t let him know you still crave him like a bad addiction, the withdrawal being the worst it’s ever been
Do not let him know if you miss him
Do not let him know you do
There is no purpose in missing what never made you whole
You are enough human without another to need you
If he misses you tonight, let him
If you miss him tonight, don't.