lately i find myself often thinking about you and my past and the bittersweet connection of the two.

and i see you in the morning and your hair's a wild mess that keeps the imprints of your gentle fingers fresh and pull each strand back with the effort of a breeze pulling flowers taught.

and i see you at noon when the sun is its brightest but everything around you seems to expect a grander light to emerge from you and i see that light and feel it's warmth on my cheek. and i wonder if my mother was right when i was a child and if i should be wearing sunscreen but i think i am willing to be burned by your presence rather than separated by the thin layer of protection i know i should have. i know i should protect myself.

and i know it in the evening when you look through me with your tired eyes
and i know it when i ask you how your day was and you reply with "fine" and i know too well that fine is not a synonym for "okay" or "happy",
and i know it when i feel alone on the couch with your body next to mine less than a centimetre a part yet you cannot hear my plea for you to hold me once more.
and i still know it in the middle of the night when the stars sneak away and pastel clouds burst from the horizon and i have woken up today, a good start i remind myself, but you are not here again and this time i sink into my bed and i let the realization sink in too.

i wish i would've listened to my mother because i can not live with your burns anymore.