Morning Call

I hear it.
It's getting louder and louder.
It's time to wake up...
... And I'm awake.

The first thing that comes up to me is the smile on your face. You... The image of you standing in front of me as if I'm holding a camera ready to shoot. And every single part of me is controlled by your beautiful presence. I'm your slave, I'm yours. Yes, this is how you make me feel right in the morning when I wake up.

I'm thinking what should I do next. Shower? Breakfast? Work? Or stay in bed? Either way, I'll still be doing all these by myself. I can only imagine you next to me while I'm having a hot shower. Asking you to hand me the towel and being teased by your playful side. Having coffee and toast, getting all messy and kissed by your soft lips around mine. Off to work, in the car, reminiscing the hours we spent together while the light is green and other cars behind are cursing me. Staying in bed when the only thing I can hug is my pillow, which doesn't resemble you at all. It doesn't smell of you. It's a dead object. And it's ridiculously cold to my taste.

I'm having questions in my head. I wonder a lot of whys and hows and whens and what ifs. This is getting serious. It's evolving into a vicious cycle when one question leads to another and so on.

You're so far away now, and the fact that I can't hold you tight to me, close enough to feel your heartbeat, wears me out. I can't help it. I just don't feel right. I really dislike this feeling inside me, ready to burst. But before it does, it's killing me, slicing and squeezing my heart. It hurts so much that I just want to let myself fall, lay down in the middle of the road and cry. Cry really loud till you can hear me and come back to my side.

I can't help it. This is just too painful for me to handle. It's almost unbearable. Come back. Come back. Come back to me...