waking and sleeping with him on my mind is nothing new. used to question it internally and externally in thousands of ways, wanting to know what it meant, wanting an explanation for how he’d gotten to my heart, how he’d become part of it, and how no matter what i did, thought, said, prayed, or wrote, the space for him only grew.

never got an explanation.

most days i take it for what it is, wake up wrapped in a warmth the temperature of the room belies but some days are unbearable because separation is raw, need is wound, and no one can attend to me on account of him being the only one allowed to see them.

separation feels like being caught halfway between third and home. you know the cheering is for you but the way forward ain’t clear. i pick home and the slide is just enough to close the wounds for one more day.

i stand up and smile cause he’s the umpire, pitcher, the player clapping at each base, and the only person in the stands. since it’s midnight, he’s turned on those bright ass lights just for me. i run to the benches and sit there alone breathing hard and laughing cause i never had anything in my hands and couldn’t remember holding a bat, let alone hitting a ball. laughed til i cried when realizing the field was covered in flowers and that he’d found a way to show me that we were still gifts to one another.

it’s challenging to send love across dimensions day in and day out, but i’m grateful it’s possible.

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