Remembering You

I hug my pillow tight

and close my eyes,

remembering

your smile, your touch,

your gentle voice in the night;

I'm so afraid of forgetting

what you sound like when

you laugh,

or the way

you sound when we talk about

life and love and politics and religion

and us.

I remember us in the ocean that first night,

walking slowly toward one another,

oblivious to the danger. 

We were like magnets, and the

attraction was strong.

The next morning, we stood near the waterfall

sipping Kona coffee, breathing in

the sights and sounds and smells

of our surroundings and of each other.

I remember afternoons in bed,

loving, exploring, going back in time

to other places and other times,

taking a break for a snack, and then

back to loving again.

I remember after our loving, we

would slip away for

a bowl of clam chowder,

laughing and whispering

as only lovers do.

We would sit in the same room,

you typing on one side of the room,

and me typing on the other....

both writing our hopes, our dreams,

our thoughts.  And when I heard you

stop typing, I would turn and see

you looking at me with that look..

the look that said, "come here". 

And I would leave what I was working on

and come right to you without

a second thought.

Now it's over, and I'm so sad.

For some reason I thought you would

always be here for me.

Silly me, for believing in something

like that.

You never told me you would always

be around.

It was just a feeling I had.

It was just something I hoped for.

But I'll be okay.

Tonight I'll cry.

But tomorrow is another day.