liyana,

I hate nights without you. Sometimes I woke up in the dark half expecting you lying next to me. Sleeping soundly.

And mornings. I missed your kisses that woke me up when I kept snoozing off the alarm clock.

I missed the smell of your coffee as I passed through the kitchen hall.

The smell of your perfume.

And there are days when I just could not find reasons to wake up any longer.

I have moved the dressing table out of my bedroom. I could not look at it and let it stare back at me in the absence of your image. Of you putting on lipstick in the morning. Brushing your gorgeous hair. Taking off jewelry at night.

I even threw out the coffee maker which I bought solely for you. For specific reason that you would not be able to give anymore excuses not to spend a night with me back then.

I have not touched any of your clothes which are still hanged perfectly in my wardrobe. You left some here marking your territory. They are still here. Closely pressed against mine.

‘Wait, love. Don’t disappear yet.’

You said as our fingers intertwined in the morning I left for Shanghai.

You had a massive headache the night before. Breathing in the sweet scent of cherry and vanilla in your hair, I told you not to get up. Kissing your forehead softly. I was planting sweet goodbyes.

My eyes promising return. As always.

Now they are simply burned with longings.

And these arms. They keep reaching out to your side of the bed. Tirelessly. In my sleep. 

Only to be rudely awakened.

Only to find that you are not there.

chairil