I was between asleep and awake when I felt you.
It was a long, tiring week. I'm not surprised I slept so much and without interruptions. I'm not surprised to keep thinking about you either.
Yesterday I hugged our photos for the last time before putting them away in a dark and hidden corner, but not forgotten. I remembered when you hugged the box you had full of my letters, and when we convinced ourselves that one felt what the other felt.
Today, I felt you.
It was wonderful and sadly nostalgic. I was lying on my back with my head tilted slightly to the right. I was somewhere between asleep and awake when I felt you snuggle on top of me. It was already dawn, the light between my curtains sang to me, and I felt the pressure of your face made of cotton against mine, my cheeks pressed against yours, and I instinctively raised my arms to join you in my warmth.
I knew it. I felt it. It was you.
But I stopped with my arms raised. I also knew you weren't here.
I left them spread out for I don't know how long, because although what I wanted most was to hug you, I knew that I would only find air, and that your weight would vanish as I tried to catch you.
I wanted to let your sorrows rest on mine as much as necessary. To be your safe place once again. But my desire has always been stronger than my reason, and these arms that tried to take care of you and only managed to suffocate you, made you flee from me again.
I embraced everything you left me.
I opened my eyes. 10:30 am and the gray sky.
Did you feel that too?
I would like to spy on you. Search through your notes and your diaries for the memories of the morning of this October 30th and find out if things are still as we promised. I want to walk through your room like a ghost on a day when you are not present to quickly search for signs that, for you, I still exist. That I am not only this reflection in my window, in the only room with light in the building, that hallucinates with your touch and with the idea that you still think of me. That you still feel me.
Have you been hugging someone else?
I want to convince myself that you did. That this morning, you woke up with another fun and disinterested body, colorless and smiling, with that flavor that expires in less than 24 hours and that empty heat that will never emanate the strength with which I caressed you.
You leaned on their face, not mine.
But it was I who felt you.
Good night, we'll feel each other tomorrow.
