The Moment I Realized He’s Just Not There Anymore

I wake up to breakfast in bed on a Sunday morning, showered with gifts, hugs, and kisses. As the light peeks through the curtains I see a shadow of a smile playing on his face and smoldering eyes staring back at me with nothing but love and desire. I find out that the whole day has been planned out for me, taking me on an adventure to the most unexpected places in town. But before that I enjoy a lovely breakfast he prepared, noting all my morning cravings; from pancakes, to macaroni and cheese, to French toast, to a philly cheese steak sandwich with extra mozzarella. Even knowing the exact amount of milk I put in my cereal bowl and how I mix all my favorite cereals together. Everything’s just the way I like it.

As the morning passes, I take a shower, excited for what’s to come. He tells me to wear my best and most comfortable clothes I have because what he has planned out for the day is something he knows I’ll love to bits. Not knowing what to wear out of the hundreds of black and gray clothes in my closet, I ask him for help. But he just laughs it off and says anything will do because I’ll look great in all of them anyway.

While strolling around the city, holding hands and window shopping at boutiques, the first place he takes me is to an antique store filled with vintage items and trinkets I absolutely love. I move around the small store as he follows my every move, snapping pictures with his camera taking candid shots of how my eyes light up when I’d see something nice or the way I’d tuck my hair behind my ear when it’d get in the way. We leave the store with a tiny paper bag and a goofy smile on my face.

For the whole afternoon, we walk around town to take some pictures and go shopping for a bit while he spoils me some more. After that, he takes me to a cafe where we order some coffee and pastries for takeout. And then he orders pizza to go as well, half cheese because he knows I hate toppings on my pizza. I wonder why he’s buying all these food but he obviously says it’s a surprise and that I should just wait and see. So as I walk out of the restaurant and hop in his car, I realize that he’s taking me to one of my favorite spots out of town. We arrive at a vast field overlooking the city. He pulls out a blanket and takes more pictures of me and the view as we talk some more and wait for the sun to set while eating some pizza. He wraps his arms around me as the sun goes down and the stars come out. I realize that he’s really thought this through because what’s better than a sunset is gazing at the stars in the sky. Everything’s perfect.

And then I wake up and realize, it’s Sunday morning. He’s just not there anymore.

I reach out my arm to the empty space beside my bed, searching for what could’ve been there to greet me with all the love I deserve. I get up and cook breakfast for myself because the one person who knew everything about me isn’t there to make my mornings right anymore. I take a cold shower remembering that this day is just like any other day, except labeled with expectations of flowers and chocolates. I can’t decide what to wear and there’s no one to consult.

Stepping out into the city filled with people going on about their Valentine’s Day plans just kills me a little bit inside. I remember each time he’d take my picture when I wasn’t looking. I remember him spoiling me with things I sometimes didn’t deserve. I remember him ordering cups of coffee and letting me take photos of it on the table first before taking a sip so it would look picture perfect. I remember the way he’d open doors for me and wrap his arm around my shoulder as we walked through town. Ordering pizza isn’t the same anymore because the other half would never be his.

The view overlooking the city just doesn’t feel right without him. It used to feel cozy and safe as he wrapped his blanket around me. But now it just feels empty. And as the sun sets and the stars come out, I repeat to myself that this day is just like any other day, except labeled with expectations of love and desire. This is just the first out of the hundreds of days I’ll have to get through without him.