~If she were gone~

She smiles for the camera the way she always does, not out of vanity, but because she knows what it does to me. She sends me photos on her lunch break, little reminders that I’m still on her mind, that for now I’m still the lucky one.

We fell asleep on the couch together, tangled up so close with my cheek rested against hers. The movie made her cry. They kissed in the end and found their way back to each other. She asked if I would wait for her, if I would run to her if she ever disappeared from my life. I told her, “My love, I never could have let you go,” and I held her until sleep finally took us both.

She takes such care with her makeup before we go out, always wanting to look perfect for the world. But when we come home, she washes it away, slips into sweats and my old t-shirt, and curls up in my lap like it’s the only place she belongs. Her head rests against my chest, and she smiles up at me with a nakedness no one else ever sees. Her softness, her unguarded self… she gives that only to me. I hold it gently, knowing how fragile and valuable it is.

Some nights, when my eyes refuse to close, I just watch her sleep. I wonder what dreams are visiting her and hope they’re kind. Her question echoes in my head, what would my life be without her? The answer feels like a hole I can’t look into long for fear of falling in. The tears come, and I let them fall, because the truth is I know she won’t always be here. One day, she’ll fade from my world, and I’ll be left holding the shape of her in memory.

But then I wipe my eyes, kiss the warmth of her sleeping forehead, and wrap my arms around her again. Because tonight, this one small night, her breath is steady, her body is close, and her love is still mine. And for this moment, that is enough.