Always You

I spend too much time thinking about what I'd do if you were here when your not. Then when you are, I feel kind of awkward and shy, almost like we've only just met. 

Then there are the 'me' things I do when you're not home. 

I take the time to groom my beard. I trim my nails, my nose hairs and shave the sparse hairs off my back. I also spend a lot of time making sure I have no hairs growing in my ears. I tidy up the nethers, wash my hands, brush my teeth.

While I do this, I don't think of you.

I stand in front of my wardrobe looking at my shirts, trying to decide which one I’ll wear. Then I spend the same time thinking about the pants to go with the shirt. Then the shoes, socks and, yes, even the underwear.

I prepare my wear without a thought of you. 

I search the fridge for forgotten treats, scour the cupboards for tidbits and raid the freezer for edible frozen gems. I feed the cats, clean the dishes, sweep the floor; I dust, straighten up, tidy up and water the plants.

I do these things with nary a thought of you.

But when I sit down, finally, to eat and relax, thoughts of you rush at me like lost loves found again. I'm overwhelmed with sadness and wanting, woefully and pathetically sorry for myself. It's in these moments, when I could really do with some tactile love, that our cats choose to completely ignore me.

So, despondent, lonely and considering canine murder, I can't help but think of you. Only you.

Always you.