That leftover slice of your lasagna in the fridge is still mine if you don't want it, but thinking of you this afternoon made me smile.

I'm thinking of your phone buzzing in your pocket and hoping it's mine when it does.

I remembered the exact spot you put your keys and left them where you'd find them later.

Tell me one thing that annoyed you today and I'll listen properly.

I found the playlist you made for me and it made the walk home shorter.

I keep replaying the way you fixed the radiator without asking for help.

Knowing you chose the blue shirt this morning makes me picture you and it feels good.

I smiled when I saw your handwriting on the receipt in my coat pocket.

If you're still at your desk at five, I'll bring your favourite sandwich.

I saved the little sticky note where you wrote 'buy milk' and it sits on my fridge now.

My hand reached for the phone to text you and froze because I wanted to see what you'd done today first.

I love how you corrected my terrible directions without making me feel dumb.

I kept your spare umbrella in my bag and thought of you when it drizzled this afternoon.

Your dry comment in the meeting made me laugh out loud at my desk.

I want to be the person who brings you the bagel you forgot at the office.

I kept your socks on the radiator like a ridiculous trophy this morning.

I found the silly photo you hid in my phone and it made a dull afternoon better.

Your message about the lost keys made me search under the couch even though I knew you probably checked there.

I love that you answered my rant without trying to fix it.

If you need a break later, I can come by with that iced tea you like.

I noticed you left a pen in my jacket and it made me grin for no reason.

When your laptop pinged at lunch, my heart did a stupid little jump.

I keep checking the spot on the sofa where you always sit.

Seeing your text about the delayed train made me want to bring you soup.

I owe you a nap this evening — you looked exhausted this morning.

Your tired laugh after your meeting is what I want to remember tonight.

I miss your hands more than I thought I would when I'm opening jars.

This afternoon's coffee tasted better because I imagined you across the table.

I'm still holding on to the note you left me by the keys.

I noticed the dent on your mug and felt oddly glad it exists because it means you used it.

Reading your last message again made the rest of my day easier.

You falling asleep on the couch with the TV on this morning is the image I keep replaying.

I kept meaning to call at lunch and forgot, and now I just want to hear your voice before the day gets away.

That tiny gap between your front teeth appeared in my memory and I haven’t stopped smiling—and wanting.

I’m imagining your phone buzzing and you looking at me with that look that makes me forget words.

Your lipstick on the rim of your coffee cup this morning has stuck in my head.

I want to hear the low way you say my name when no one else is around.

I keep picturing the way you rest your chin on my shoulder when you’re tired and it’s dangerous.

Thinking of your jacket draped over my chair and how I want it—and you—on me.

I want the promise of your hands finding my waist when the elevator doors close.