Ghost Ocean

I made myself a cup, as I regularly do. But today, I thought of you making it for me. I envisioned your POV, hearing my meetings going on in the background, you all cute, trying to be quiet.

I miss you so, so much. It was easier in the beginning. I thought I had a lot of clarity, but I often question myself.

I remembered how you couldn’t even bring yourself to write me a simple letter for my birthday like I asked. “I don’t know why I can’t do it,” was always your go-to response. It hurts. And how clever I thought it was, putting chamomile flowers in your Valentine’s Day bouquet—a nod to shared ritual of having a cozy cup of tea, sitting at my dining table… staring into your beautiful face.

I miss you, BP.