Dear Tesa

Mornings

Dear Tesa,

There is a certain time just before dawn that used to make me excited about the next day. Its between 5 and 6 am, it's when people slowly start their day. Bakers wake to turn on their ovens and create a smell so incredible it is known around the world. Trades men wake to start the day knowing there will be mess by the end of it. Business men wake in the hopes of getting the best score. There is a certain stillness at this time. It is just before the rest of the world wakes up for their day and the certain few that aren't asleep slowly begin to understand the meaning of peace. There is a certain stillness that comes with knowing that people are off sleeping, unbeknownst of what the day has to offer. There comes a stillness with knowing there is close to no hatred at this time, for all people must sleep and with sleep comes peace.

Mornings used to be my favourite part of the day. I would wake up for work just before dawn and watch the sun rise. A nice cup of coffee warms my throat as I sit on the rocking chair that you hate because "all it does is squeak." But it never made a sound in the morning. Not whilst I drank my coffee that was too hot and watched my sunrise that made me think of peace. I used to allow at least 20 minutes of "peace" to myself, but nothing could ever make me feel the way you made me feel. The look on your face when you jump out of bed after your alarm didn't go off again. The sound of your voice as you sing horribly to the radio. Your cheeks, when I tell you how much I love your ass. Your smile when I tell you I love you. All these things are a small list of the infinite amount of 'favourite' I have for you. Like the way your hair looks after a shower. Or the way you apply moisturiser to your legs. Or even the way you look when you've come home after a night with the girl and the stench of alcohol is heavy on your breath. All of you made me forget the love I had for mornings because you had become my stillness.

I used to allow at least 20minutes before work to admire the mornings; now I need a million life times tofeel even close to satisfied with not having you with me. Every day I wonderwhat I would give up the most to have you in my arms one more time. To hear thesound of your voice, to be able to smell your hair, to tell you how much I loveyou. Every day I give up the mornings and every day I dread it knowing that nomatter how much I crave to give it up, I know in my heart that I will never seeyour face again. But every day I still wake up 20 minutes earlier than I haveto and every day I watch the sun rise and listen to the birds' chirp and smellthe wet grass. Every day I wake up thinking of you.