You too. See you tomorrow at the rink?
Right. Tomorrow we both go back to work. Back to the facility where I intern and teach and he practices and we’ll be in the same building but not together and?—
Yeah. See you tomorrow.
I finish unpacking. Take a shower in my tiny bathroom with the water that never quite gets hot enough. Put on my usual pajamas. Go through all my routines in the awful quiet. For six nights he was in my space and now the lack of him is a void that I don’t know how to fill.
I lie down and stare at the ceiling. The apartment is so quiet. The couple upstairs walking around. A car alarm. The hum of my refrigerator.
In Toronto I fell asleep to the sound of Romeo’s heartbeat. To his breathing. To the weight of his arms around me.
This is stupid. I’m being ridiculous.
I reach for my phone. Put it down. Reach for it again.
It’s past 11. Too late to text. He has practice at six.
But my fingers are already moving.
Are you awake?
Romeo
Yeah. Can’t sleep. My bed is too big and empty.
Mine feels wrong
Romeo
Wrong how
Too quiet. No hockey-player snores. Zero chance of snuggles
Romeo
I do NOT snore. Also, come over.
I stare at my phone. We spent one week together. Six nights. That’s nothing. People date for months before they feel like this.
But I feel it anyway.
It’s almost midnight.
Romeo
I have warm blankets and a complete lack of shame. Bring pajamas or don’t. I’m flexible.
I sit up. This is too fast. Too much. We just got back. We should have space to figure out what this is before we?—
But the thought of lying here alone makes me feel almost sick.
Romeo
Please? I know it’s late but I just want you here. Even if we just sleep.
Give me twenty.
Romeo
