This Is When I Think Of You

This Is When I Think Of You

I think of you
at 2 a.m.
dancing around my bedroom by myself,
surprised by how much I can move
in the space
you no longer occupy.

I think of you
on Winter nights,
turning in my sleep,
reaching to throw an arm over
someone who is not there.
My bed almost feels too big,
until I remember,
with you,
my goals in life were so small
to accommodate your presence.

I think of you
on stormy days,
looking out the window
at the sidewalk in front of my house,
where your chalk-drawn promises
were once displayed.
even our memory
has washed away in the rain.

I think of you
while turning the dial
on an old car radio,
and falling in love with a song
I know you wouldn’t get;
how I stopped sharing my music with you,
sitting next to you in your car
in the parking lot of my work
with my headphones in
and wondering why
I hadn’t walked away from you yet.

I think of you
every time
my coworker buys me my favorite drink,
or a small gift
without me even asking.
My heart aches at the realization
that this practical stranger
puts more effort
in to taking care of me
than you ever did.

I think of you
in the moments
when the lines form
in the corners of his eyes
as he throws his head back
at something I said;
Appreciating the punchlines
that I know
would’ve gone over your head.

I think of you
in fits of frustration
by the combination
of the all-too-familiar breath
of a late night customer
and the jingle of Keys
to the car
he will arrogantly choose to drive home anyway.

I think of you
in the middle of the night,
as I lay awake
falling in love
with my favorite lines
of the Andrea Gibson poem
you insulted.

I think of you
every time
Thought Catalog
publishes something
you tried to tell me
I couldn’t write.

I’m trying.

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