The way you would sit in your chair, fiddling with the hem of your pants, waiting for me to walk in the room.
The way you would obnoxiously shout 'hhhhhhhhaaaaaa' sarcastically whenever I said a joke that was entirely un-funny.
The way we would sing together in the kitchen and the car, as off-key as possible, louder and louder until one of us broke down and laughed.
How you would always rest your hand on the small of my back.
The way you would come home from work to me passed out on the sofa and would cover me with a blanket, every time.
The way you could always make me laugh, no matter how angry I was, no matter how inappropriate the timing.
How you would put me to bed at night and tuck the blankets in under me like a little kid whenever you went for your midnight jogs.
The way you drove, one hand on the top of the wheel, like you owned the road. You were so handsome.
The way your wedding ring looked on your hand. The little tan line you had from it, from never taking it off.
The way you planned out everything with pie charts and spread sheets and detailed to-do lists. I was your idea girl, you were the planner. Now I can't seem to make a single decision or plan more than 5 minutes ahead without you.
You teaching me how to skate, ever so patiently. Even though I never quite caught on.
You sitting at the counter, carefully taking notes while I made dinner, demanding I narrate like it was a cooking show.
The way you would sit and analyze for hours with me the movies we watched. I always ended up taking over the conversation and you would just listen and laugh.
You sitting at the kitchen table early in the morning, still wrapped in your blanket, sipping coffee, half asleep, while I yammered on about work.
Our post-party debriefings, chatting about everything said and done during the evening. You always did the best impressions of everyone.
Hearing you call me by all the pet names you had for me. Now nobody will ever call me Sal again.
Finding the notes you would leave me all over the house. And in the car. And in my purse. And everywhere.
Talking to you on my lunch break, venting about my day. You making fun of my coworkers just to make me laugh and show me I had at least one other person on my side in this world.
All the clever comebacks you would suggest I should have used on the people who pissed me off. I would always say, 'Where are you when I need you?' and laugh. Now I wonder, where are you when I need you now?
Stealing your t-shirts when you weren't looking. Now I can wear them any time I want and it just isn't the same.
How you would gush about every single thing I cooked, no matter how inedible.
Curling up and spooning on the sofa when we watched movies. We would always joke we were getting too fat to fit, but we would keep doing it anyway, no matter how uncomfortable.
Seeing your car in the driveway, looking forward to stepping in the door and knowing you were there.
The sound of your voice. Angry, sad, happy, mad... doesn't matter. I miss it all.
The way you smell.
That look you would get on your face, like you couldn't believe your luck at getting me all to yourself.
The way you would tell me everything, pouring out your heart. That I was the only person in the world you trusted with your true self.
Hearing you snore. I'd kick you to wake you up to make you stop and then pretend I didn't do anything and was still sound asleep. Now I would give anything to hear you snore next to me one more time.
Knowing you were there, always there. I could reach you, find you, talk to you anytime I wanted.
I miss everything.