I’m thinking of you breathing slow and even and wishing you rest.

I replaced the light bulb you asked me to get and left it by the door.

I’m holding on to the sweater you forgot, it’s with my laundry.

I left a note on the mirror for you to find in the morning.

I put the lamp you hate back on the shelf where you keep it.

I washed the bowl you used and put it in the cupboard.

I remember the dent in your phone case and it made me laugh.

I made sure the kettle was off before I left the kitchen.

I folded the note you left and kept it in my wallet.

Your playlist is still on my phone; I listened to two songs.

I carried your laundry up the stairs even though I was tired.

I can’t stop thinking about your laugh right before you fall asleep.

I miss arguing with you about which show to watch before bed.

I still remember the scratch on your old blue jacket and smiled.

I kept your coffee mug on the counter so I’d see it in the morning.

I want you to know I’m here, awake with you in the same small night.

I shut the bathroom fan off so the house is silent and you can sleep.

I’m thinking of how you hummed while washing up and it’s making me smile.

I kept one sock from the laundry because it had your pocket string tangled in it.

I put fresh water by your bedside lamp in case you wake thirsty.

I’m slower to sleep when you’re away; it’s just harder without your texts.

I folded your shirt the way you do and left it on the chair for you.

I want to say plainly: I care about you a lot tonight.

I made sure your plants are watered the way you taught me.

I woke at two and smiled at your picture on my phone.

I brushed my teeth twice because I remembered you teasing me about it.

I kept your ticket stub in my wallet and it made me happy today.

I closed the window; the neighbor’s radio was too loud and I thought you’d hate that.

I’m grateful for your voice on my worst day; it settled me down.

I’m still wearing the scarf you borrowed; it smells faintly of your coat and it helps.

I left your phone where you can grab it in the dark.

I noticed the dent in your mug and smiled, remembered where you chipped it.

I kept the lamp low because I remembered you said bright lights bother you at night.

I slept badly and woke up wanting to tell you about it because you make small things matter.

I put the kettle on the night before thinking of how you take your tea.

I’m tucked in and thinking it was easier to be brave because of you.

I set your keys on the book you’re reading so you won’t fumble in the morning.

I’m rereading the note you left and smiling until I forget the time.

I want you to know I notice the little careful things you do.

There’s toothpaste on the rim of your glass so I rinsed it and left it clean.