It’s when you’re everything we think you are.
Your stress has fallen off of your face. Your eyebrows have finally unfurrowed from the weight of the world that you carry there. Your lips are slack and slightly open, allowing the tiniest breath to come out.
We can look at you here, in this moment, and see an infinite amount of possibility. We see all the hope behind your eyelids, the love left under your tongue, the touch your fingers have yet to give. We see it all.
We see images run across your face of futures that will never happen. We see potential.
But potential has to wake up eventually.
We miss you in the morning because the day hasn’t overtaken our senses yet. We haven’t quite remembered the damage you caused, the hurt we can no longer escape. We have a purity of mind where your softness still exists.
We miss you in the morning because every day was a chance for you to prove yourself wrong, for you to wake up and try.
But you never did. And you never will. People like you won’t do that.
We miss you in the morning because you didn’t choose us. You chose yourself. Or someone else. Either way, we weren’t the person you wanted to wake up with anymore.
We miss you in the morning because it’s the first reminder that you’re gone and the first reminder that our day is different now.
There will be a morning, a long time from now, when you aren’t the first thing on our minds. Or the second.
Eventually, after many long months and many early morning heartaches, you won’t come to our minds at all.
And that is exactly the moment you will start to miss us. That’s when you’ll notice, in the morning, that we are no longer there.
And we don’t want to be.