I wake.
Stray beams of sunlight
Leak through the window that
The curtains failed to seal.
There is a welcoming warmth to these beams
Licking at my face.
It singes my skin just a little too much
To remain in bed.

I miss her.
The smell of her hair faintly seeps
Through the pillow we'd lie on
When watching netflix shows.
If I indulge too much, the scent fades.
If I don't delve in it at all
The what use is the smell?

Yet she hasn't gone anywhere - only physically.
I am yearning for memories that haven't been created yet.
I am longing to come back before I have even left.

The duvet is a little too warm,
The room just slightly too cold.
The coffee brewed in 2 minutes
Or less is neither sweet or
Bitter enough - the hum
Of the seemingly inept laptop cooler
Is neither annoying or comforting
Enough for me to want to replace it.

The tinge of impermanence in all this
Leaves something to be desired.
I don't want to go -
But I can't miss her if I don't.
I made the choice to leave this place
Because
I had no reason to stay.

I now regret that.
As soon as I decided to go,
Life gave me a reason not to.

The taste of this conflict
Tastes too much like the irony of life.