I Don’t Expect You To Miss Me
I don’t expect you to miss me
I don’t expect you to think of me on the days when you sort through laundry, looking for something clean to wear, and you pull one of my favorite pieces of your wardrobe an over your head. I don’t expect you to notice the way your nipple pokes through the thin material of that one baseball shirt, or laugh about it like we did on the day I pointed it out and you tried to cover it up. I don’t expect you to smile when you pull on those socks I bought you for your 36th birthday, or stare at your reflection a little longer on days when you wear that coat I couldn’t help but admire you in, and told you gave me butterflies because it was my favorite color.
Every time someone calls you a Drama Queen or tells you about how you died in their dream, I don’t expect you to think of me. I don’t expect you to smile a little too hard when people say your name in a whiny voice or tell you that your eyes have changed colors, once again. When you come across a cool new word, I don’t expect you to wonder what color or texture my synesthetic brain would find it to be, or how it would taste. When you meet someone new and they ask you to tell them a story, I don’t expect you to think of all the ones you still haven’t told me.
Every time someone tells you that they hate you, with a smile on their face, I don’t expect you to think of me, or what you know I was actually trying to say. When you catch yourself making your thinking noise, or walking with an extra bounce in your step. When you find yourself making plans or pinky promises that you know will never be kept. When you meet someone, whose eyes light up at the mention of horror movies, or Halloween. When you see unicorns or butterflies on anything. When you meet a girl with red hair and a bad habit of rolling her eyes when you speak, I don’t expect you to think of me.
When you go home and unlock your door after a long day, and drop your keys, I don’t expect you to miss the weight of all the silly things I used to add to your keychain, just to annoy you and make you smile. When some random person calls you “Bro”, or you come across someone with crooked toes, I don’t expect you to think of me. When you see a stranger walking their dog down the street, I don’t expect you to remember all the ways that I used to compare you to a puppy. When conversations run dry or your jokes fall flat, I don’t expect you to think of how I would have found it funny and said something even funnier back. I don’t expect you to tell people stories about the conversations we had, or how I sometimes made you laugh so hard you almost fell over.
When you tell someone you love them, I don’t expect you to think of me. I don’t expect you to wonder why you couldn’t give me an answer whether you really meant it the night you said you loved me so many times. When someone new calls you their favorite, I don’t expect you to miss me. I don’t expect you to read any of the things that I write.
I don’t expect you to miss me, but damn. It sure would be nice.
© Gina Clingan 2020
From my book, A Light In The Dark 💛
available on Amazon now!
Grab your copy here: https://amazon.com/dp/B08KZBCDC5
