Life goes on

The dream that I've been living in for the past 6 weeks has ended.

I'm scared. I'm scared that I'll start forgetting the wonderful times we had together, that little details and precious memories will begin slipping away the further I get in terms of time and distance. Previous blog entries were vague and unspecific, because it's weird to write in detail about mundane routines, because they aren't as noteworthy as...special events.

Yet the mundane is often what captures the very essence of a relationship.

I will miss morning breakfasts together and cups of tea with condensed milk, stuffing our hands into our pockets because of the cold, then remembering that we want to hold hands more than that, waiting for him to come back from work and snuggling into his arms to welcome him home, cooking together and my insisting that he use less onions and mushrooms in just about everything, tub after tub of Tom and Jerry's ice-cream, his geeky quarrels with Jameson after sci-fi movies, New Girl, him taking the window seat in the kitchen because it's colder there, reading on his Kindle while he played Call of Duty, going to the movies, wringing out the laundry because the spin dryer was spoiled, him eating up everything I don't want to finish, and just being close to each other.

I don't want to forget the distinct scent of the outdoors, or the fragrance of the detergent that makes my clothes smell like his, or his shampoo and soap.

Most of all, I will miss being awake at the same time he is, and knowing I can talk to him any time of the day.


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