my bedroom window is wide open and the smell of fresh rain drifts in, filling the room with a dewy haze. the candle in the windowsill burns vanilla and tobacco, warm and homey.
my bed is empty without you. my blue sheets always fall off the edges and i know that when you arrive in july, it’ll drive you crazy. i pull my dusty rose duvet up to my chin and breathe the scents in deeply.
i hold tight to the stuffed horse you sent me, drenched in your lovely perfume. i stroke her matted fur and she reminds me that the miles mean nothing.
summer’s humidity seeps into my room and i try to wave away the muggy air. my ginger cat leaps up onto my bed and lays his head on my chest where yours should be. i sigh and rub his ears. he means well, but nothing can replace the way your body feels next to mine.
july cannot come soon enough. june has been dragging on and it’s as though there are deadweights holding it back. ev- ery day feels like a mountain i have to conquer to get to you.
it’s worth the climb.
i want experience this post rain glow with you in my arms.
my bedroom window is wide open and the smell of fresh rain drifts in, still sharp and distinct. my candle glows, the only light in the room as the evening crawls to a close.
the crickets are beginning to chirp in the field outside my window. i bury my face under my duvet, just like you do. your horse nuzzles into my neck and i drift off to sleep.
another day closer to you.