The way she looks at me when she wants a kiss, but won’t ever say it.
The way she picks up the drop of coffee on the side of her cup with the smallest poke of her tongue.
When my heart and hands have been emptied of her, these are the things I remember.
No grand gestures, no fiery passion in the night. It’s these tiny little actions, that I’m not even sure I noticed at the time.
It’s these tiny things that fill my mind now, when I feel her absence.
About the Creator
Ashley Richmond
My mission is to make health simple. I write about daily practices and routines to optimize health. Small changes can have a big impact, and I want to help others take advantage of this.
Free newsletter: https://momentumhabits.substack.com/
Keep reading
More stories from Ashley Richmond and writers in Poets and other communities.
A Digital Pandemic.
After a long day in the department, Emily dropped her worn and tired dark leather bag on the counter before navigating through the small and disordered kitchen to grab a cold beer from a contrarily empty fridge. She hadn't had a chance to unpack since moving from Newcastle to Glasgow, let alone shop for sustenance, except for cold brews naturally.
By Billie Whyte4 days ago in Chapters
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.