At 3 A.M., My Mind Wanders Back To You

At 3 a.m., my mind wanders into the safest place it could find: memories with you.

It remembers the nights we talked endlessly under the stars and the expanse of the universe. Where you held me in your arms and we cuddled until we fell asleep. Where our philosophical and heart to heart conversations were set out into the wind and the trees. The nights where we talked about everything under the sun, including our fears, dreams, hopes, and aspirations. Nothing was off the table, and I felt like I could be anybody.

It remembers the warm embrace and slow dancing with you to ballads. I longed for your hugs and the arms that coddled and soothed all my insecurities. Those beautiful, muscular arms built from years in construction and heavy lifting were as tender as holding a broken bird in its hands. With your hands wrapped around my waist, you held me so close I could feel your breath against my skin. I remember crying into your shoulder because I felt so happy, so relieved, to finally find a place called home.

It remembers eating popcorn in silent libraries and streets ringing with our laughter. Where we were dancing the world away as if no one existed, but here and us in this moment. A small sushi restaurant where the two of us were tucked away in a small booth in a corner. It feels like joy and pure bliss, the kind of happiness found only in fairytales and story books. Even on the darkest days, there was always a light at the end of the tunnel because there was always you. You were my source of happiness.

It remembers the big brown eyes I could easily lose myself in. When I am crying in the corner of a room after an emotional breakdown. Until your eyes brought me back to life as you gently coaxed me out of my intense mood. As you brought me hope and comfort by just seeing your eyes. The eyes that were so kind and gentle also spoke of a brokenness and a hell of a past to tell about. Eyes that spoke of trials and tribulations you have faced and overcame. Eyes that I greatly admired.

At 3 a.m., my mind wanders back to you.

About the author
a pen where a mouth should be. Follow Siobhan on Instagram or read more articles from Siobhan on Thought Catalog.

Learn more about Thought Catalog and our writers on our about page.

Related