We'll see how I feel tomorrow

I dreamed of you this morning, of you with another, and of barely keeping myself from decking the other with all my might. I miss you already, miss your touch and your kiss and the way your hair smells. I miss holding you close and petting you, running my fingertips over your face or side over and over. I miss lying wrapped in your arms, and the way we would roll together without any words spoken and you would slide inside of me, simple and easy and familiar and comfortable. I miss wishing you good morning, and I miss getting you breakfast, and I miss the way you cup my hip and the way I rest my hand in the small of your back as we walk. I miss your blue eyes and your smiles, your crazy mad scientist hair and your soft fingers. I don't miss the pieces of my heart you have. Maybe later I will, but for now you're welcome to them and more. I miss knowing if you were ok, knowing you had someone to talk to whom you trust. I miss your skin and being your anchor, cuddling on the couch and arguing politics and sending you chocolates because you were sad. You never did give me those roses. You never did make me that corned beef. I miss your rants about work and telling me I'm beautiful (so beautiful, how was it possible I ever didn't know?). I miss you with closed eyes, sleeping softly with no awareness I was watching and memorizing the way your lashes sweep your cheek.

I love you, you know. I love you, and I will miss you so much it steals my breath, worry for you in absence of speech, send hopes and well-wishes your way, because I love you and you are my best friend. I don't expect anything to change, really, but of course I would like it to.

I'm pretty sure you'd answer if I called, so I won't.

But I love you still.