hanging out

Dear Nick,

Right now is one of those times I really miss you. If you were still in town, I’d knock on your door. You’d let me in, and I’d immediately go to your couch. It would be cold in your apartment, so you’d throw that grey fleece blanket on me. You’d offer a drink, maybe even ice cream. Maybe I brought my pink water bottle, but maybe I didn’t, so you’d get me a glass of water. Then you’d sit next to me on the couch, restless for a while, trying to get comfortable, the whole time asking me what I want to watch. We’d decide on a movie, or an SNL episode (the one with Feist and Brian Williams being a favorite), or an animated television show. I’d sit somewhat sideways, with my toes tucked into the crack of the sofa cushions, the tops of my feet against your hip and the side of your thigh. If I make a comment during the show, you stop the program, and have me repeat what I said before you respond. Sometimes I have to repeat myself again. Then you rewind the show to where we were before I started talking. Sometimes you look over at me. Sometimes I steal a glance at you. I love your loud laugh. You look at me when I giggle. Your arm is on the back of the couch, and you lean slightly toward me. Sometimes I start to fall asleep, but your laugh wakes me up, and I feel happy. I’m always happy when we’re together.

When it’s time to go home, you walk me to your door, give me a huge hug, and we kiss each other’s cheeks. You inhale my hair, and I pretend not to notice, but secretly, I love that. I also love your prickly cheek stubble against my cheek. It makes me feel close to you.

Love,
Holly