What I Miss

What I miss most about you is
 
The way you wrap your arms around my waist and nuzzle at my neck while I’m sleeping
 
The way you would  stop cooking so we could slow dance in the kitchen when our favorite song pops up in the playlist  
 
The way your leg intertwined with mine in the brisk dawn air and you pull me closer and whisper “I Love you”
 
The way our bodies fit together so perfectly in our nakedness.  
 
The way your perfume drifted through the house  on your way out the door to work each morning
 
The way you built a snowman on our front stairs
 
The way you pronounced every letter of my name fully and completely when you were angry
 
The way we made love after a heated argument
 
The arguments have long been silenced and the dog sleeps on your side of the queen size bed. The playlists have been deleted and there are no snowmen on the front steps these days
 
What I have now is hope. I’ll take that anyday over what we had.