just that, no more

it’s exactly where he left it almost a month ago. for some reason, i can’t bring myself to move it from where it sits on the kitchen counter. a stupid, almost-empty bottle of water. a bottle of water he bought and drank from. he touched it. his lips were on it. he held it in his hands. he left it in that spot in my house.
i can’t remove it.
it’s been a tough week, emotionally. i’m happy about so many things which are going on, but that just makes it worse. they are the things i would have been telling him a month ago. bubbling over with enthusiasm and my patented ineffective babbling. there are still so many things i wanted to show him, places i wanted to take him. we ran out of time.
if he lived here, i would have showed up at his doorstep a dozen times or more by now. the middle of the night, in my pajamas, my hair as restless as my attempts to sleep, falling against him as he opened the door, my arms around his waist, my head pressed to his chest and saying “hold me.” but he doesn’t live here.
that was the problem.
i miss the way he touched me. the way his beard felt on my back, his hands rubbing lotion into the blisters on my baby toes, his lips on mine. i miss the way he looked at me with utter appreciation, without a hint of disdain.
the only thing he didn’t love about me was my belief i am unloveable. how’s that for ironic?
so, i’ve been sad this week. i’m feeling the lack of all that i had and could have kept. i miss it all. i miss him.