I won’t call you honey.

When I tell you you’re my everything I don’t mean I couldn’t live without you
I know I could
I have
I just mean my bed serves no purpose if it’s not where you lay your head
And the last time we laid there will linger in the air
Replace the tapestry with memory of our kiss and the dreams we shared to calm ourselves
Weave my fingers through until I can almost hear the sound of you
Build a cocoon of your flannels to remind me why I want to grow
Wear your sweatshirt and refuse to take it off until it’s replaced by your arms
What I mean is, I feel your absence.
I miss you at the kitchen counter where I’d watch you through that weird little window.
But I can stand there and warm my own leftovers
I can lay on your side of the bed so it doesn’t feel so empty
I can pay our bills by the skin of my teeth
I can still go to therapy and take my meds and work the steps
And when I fold your clothes I put my highschool sweats and College hoodie on the shelf, because I knew you the whole time- you just weren’t by my side yet
All of this is to say, your aren’t my capital E Everything, but I never did like the nickname honey
So “everything” just stuck