I Will Miss You Every Single Day My Heart Beats Alone

Morgan Stone Grether
Morgan Stone Grether

the tears fall
as if it is their job to
and I remember lying in a bath
on a sunny morning
with you
you are behind me
and there are roses from your mothers garden around the edges of the tub
she calls this bathroom her temple
I was so safe with you
I place my hands on my heart
and I feel it breaking
we truly can die from a broken heart
you are sacred to me
I hear your words
over
and over
you are sacred to me

Some days I tip toe around even your name, as I am afraid to awaken the cracks in my heart that threaten to consume me.

Tonight I was deleting messages on my phone to create space and your face showed up–the photograph that was taken one of the first nights we met at the fire.

And I scroll through our messages as far back as my phone can remember and slowly the salt builds in my chest, as if there is an ocean that I have tried to hide in the desert and it explodes into the blackness of the night.

You loved me so fucking sweetly.

I read every message and all I hear, and see and feel is an unconditional, patient love that you drowned me in.

It is unfathomable how sweet you were to me–it breaks my heart like china to feel your love through a phone and to not be able to ring you and hear you say darling.

You would hold me until the ends of earth inside that heart.

I remember you telling me somebody in Central America told you that your animal wasn’t an eagle–that eagles were for elders and wisemen. You were so defeated.

And tonight I read a message where you described being in your mothers belly by the creek and eagles circling over her head.

I wish I could call you and tell you that you were right.

The tears come and come and come.

I wish I could fall into your arms that I fit into like a glove–I haven’t felt as safe in another’s arms in my entire life. It was as if your body was born to hold me.

I do not wish arms that are any less magnificent than the ones born from your chest.

You were the first man who I experienced synchronized pleasure with–before you my clitoris was sleeping and slumbering from giving my body to men who had no lust for my heart. Sex was movement and an attempt at love and affection and with you my body awakened.

I want to hear you walk slowly up these stairs, they are old and creak and I smile as I hear you. My face buried in pillows, I’m ready for your warmth. It’s dark, misty and foggy. I like the sound of rain mixed with your footsteps. I’d like to take all of your clothes off immediately–piece by piece, slowly. I’d like you to start at my toes and kiss each inch of my thighs and limbs, to feel your tongue run across my body–hesitate on my nipples and thirst for my neck. I want to pull you under into these white sheets and press my body against you. I want to smear fingerprints and moans between these logs, on the windows. I want you to put all of your weight on top of me.

I remember when we were not together, and I was unsure if we were for each other you writing me a long email and saying, “I am not threatened by any man in your life. For no one is equipped to love you like I am.”

It was the most confident and pure and loving things to enter my heart.

From the day we met you refused to be a friend, you swore that you just loved me–and that was that.

Pulling your blonde hair in the sunshine, “How are you here? Why are you here?” You exclaimed exasperated by my existence in your life.

I read your words and a warmth flows in and out of my entire body for it was the purest love I have been gifted.

And my heart breaks that you are no longer here.

I cut some ties with the spirit world when you passed. I was angry at it.

I still have not felt of you, nor have I dreamed of you and sometimes it feels like a cruel joke.

When people ask me who my 5 closest humans are, you always show up. You know that?

You are.

And here I am typing on this damn screen, with a night light that is blinding, eyes full of tears that will never unravel. You’re leaving and the only person on this whole earth I want to speak to, and the only man I want to read this, is you.

You loved me with the worth I was not aware I had–and I couldn’t take you in, for it would of been letting go of the suffering I was not aware I held.

Thank you for loving me more sweetly than any man who has stepped his toes in my heart.

Thank you for stubbornly choosing me, even when I could not see or receive you.

Thank you for taking my body apart and making me whole.

Thank you for being the home I did not know I didn’t have, and didn’t know I had found.

You completed a circle that wasn’t aware it had a gap.

You were the legs that didn’t know they were missing feet.

You were sleep, after walking blindly in a world that did not bare the love that I needed.

Reading your words tonight were like small injections of love.

We so weren’t done, my love.

We so weren’t done.

I will miss you everyday my heart beats alone.

And then I realize I can never rid the grief
for it is a living thing
inside of me
I can just let it out to sing sometimes
and sing it does
so loud
that at times I believe it may never quit
and all that is left is to try sleep
with eyes that are wide
and have no interest in sleeping
so all that is left
is to lie here
with my hands across my heart
that I can feel
pulsing in my chest
and wish for the singing to stop
and the day to start
I’ve been at this for a while
at first
the sun never shone and I doubted it ever would
but now I know it does come back
it just takes shedding the flood of tears in my chest
that are a reminder of how much I love you
dear sun
please come back.
TC mark

Janne Robinson

Follow me on Instagram for more updates and writing and buy my book, This Is For The Women Who Don't Give A Fuck!

Related

More From Thought Catalog