Weight

It's 3am friday night, really Saturday morning. I can't sleep. I miss him. I toss, I turn. I dream of him and sleep in his t-shirt, the one he gave me on our first date. It reminds me of him, that day, that night. I'm not usually one to kiss, let alone go home with someone on the first date, but he was different. The date was different, and the rest was history.

I search for my phone; I usually keep it under my pillow, but it must've fallen because it isn't there. I want to call him, or text him, let him know that he's on my mind. I want to hear his voice. As I sit up in bed I glance at the red numbers on the clock sitting across the room on the dresser. The clock changes from 3:04 to 3:05. As I take a deep breath I feel myself trying to fight back tears. It's been a long week. I get out of bed, head to the dining room turning on the hallway light as I walk through. I throw on my long black coat and slip on pink fuzzy crocs over my bare feet, keeping my bonnet on. Grab my keeys in one hand and my wallet in the other. As I disarm the alarm I realize I don't have my phone or my glasses. I grab my phone from the tight space between the bed and the nightstand. I check it and sigh. I'm only checking for him. No notifications.

The clock now reads 3:10. I put on my glasses, turn the hallway light off, and head for the door. If it were 10am I'd go for a long hike, that I know he wouldn't join me on so I'd just rave about it to him later. But it's not and he's not here, and right now I need to clear my mind; so I settle for a drive. As I head for the door, a massive part of me wishes he'd be on the other side when I open it. But this is reality. And it's weighing pretty heavy right now.

I open the door to the pouring rain. I make a run for my car, wishing I paid the monthly fee for one of those garages right about now. Within the 15 to 20 seconds it took me to run from my door to my car, I swear the rain has gotten heavier and cooler. As I settle into the car, it hits me that I didn't lock my door or set my alarm, but I start the car anyway and say a quick prayer that nothing happens to my humble abode while I'm gone. It's now 3:15 am. He would disapprove of this and question what I'm doing awake and where I'm going at this hour in this weather. I can hear him.

I unlock my phone and open my messages; nothing from him. I'm not sure what I'm expecting. We haven't talked in almost two months. Neither of us budging, both of us stubborn. But it hasn't changed how I feel. I still miss him, and I still love him.