mornings ****. mornings are the worst thing in the entire world. i wake up every day far too aware of your absence in my bed, on the window side. You’d face the wall and let me cuddle up and touch your hair until you fell asleep, snoring. I ******* loved your snoring, and I don’t really understand why. You’d lie down for just a few moments, and then fall asleep mid-sentence, parts of you still awake. You could be snoring and still braiding my hair, or kissing my hands. Sometimes you’d fall asleep on an angle and your breathing would scare me so I’d wake you up just for a second to try and get you to face the right way, but you never remembered in the morning, so I figured you weren't too bothered. when i told you, you said that you wished i were as nice to you when you're awake as i am when you’re asleep.  I wake up wanting to hold you and want to call you and say “love, i’m so so so so so sorry. forget it, let’s try again. one more time,” but you always said I was awful at apologies. i probably am. i don’t know, i haven’t apologized to anyone in a while.