I miss you.
I even miss you pulling the blankets off my feet while trying to warm your own.
I miss lying in bed watching Netflix, I miss watching Archer and all our other shows with you.
I miss touching you whenever I walk by you, whether it be on your back, your head, your leg, wherever.
I miss pressing my body against yours in bed at night; my own, personal heater.
I miss you holding me while you sleep, and I even miss the way you poked and prodded me with fingers, elbows, whatever all in the name of fun.
I used to love watching you when you didn’t know that I was looking. I would trace your eyes, eyebrows, nose, and lips with my gaze.
I miss back rubs, foot massages, taking showers and baths together. I miss shaving your head for you.