I miss your favorite perfume, so I wore it this morning. You told me it was a BVLGARI unisex, so I trust you.

I miss your bad morning coffee and your bad hand-rolled cigs.

I miss our morning talks before we head our separate ways doing our thing for the day.

I miss coming home to you.

I miss you hugging me and kissing me.

I miss our daily updates. You’re rising soon-to-become superstardom career. Your real-estate career and your staging business. You were so gifted. New accounts and clients you were cultivating. I was so proud of you.
And then I’d tell you all about my day with my hand-picked (A+) team that I love and adore. We are rocking the city. New big accounts flocking in. Insane creative flying out. I’ll put my team up against any team in the city. Heck, I’ll put them up against any team in the U.S. We’re going after big brands. I’m talking freaking huge brands. We’re fearless. And the entire team embodies my spirit. Fearless. And brands are buying what we’re selling. Still, have to take baby steps. Have to ease our way up.

I miss having a little bite of the food you made with resentment. You hardly made anything with love. Nope, complete and utter resentment. But you did it… reluctantly. And you weathered through it, lovingly. Because you believed that was your duty as a mother, and a wife. We took you for granted. We made you our maid for the longest of times. Until you decided to make something out of yourself instead of letting your life drift away. Sam and I were talking about what a superstar you were to become. The potential you had. How you had your way with people. Winning them over. Turning them into friends instantly. How you truly cared about them. You took it personal. You made it personal. It wasn’t business anymore. You treated your clients as if they were your baby bears, and you being their mama bear. They were trusted in your hands and you weren’t going to let them down. You weren’t in it for the money, you did it because you loved it. You honored your craft. You had integrity. Sam loves you so much, baby. In your brief time with her, you had a bond that I haven’t witnessed with many while I was with you. Few, I could name on one hand.

I miss our 8pm workout. You whining to get up out of bed, hunching your shoulders and drooping your mouth complaining. But you plowed through it. You did your 10 minute walk with deep incline. Followed by the worst posture you could have while weight lifting. My lord. No symmetry in your stance or positioning. God awful. I’d laugh at you, and you would know exactly what’s on my mind. That you’re an idiot. So you’d laugh back at me. You simply didn’t care what I thought. You shrugged your shoulders and continued the error of your ways. Proudly, no less. Yet I continued to call you out on it by calling you an idiot.

I miss calling you an idiot.

I miss you calling me “you asshole,” and “what a dick,” and “stupid.”

I miss me calling you “dumbass” or “dum dum”. You hated me sharing that term with others. You thought “dum dum” was special to you. I should have known. I am truly sorry, again.

I miss that we both knew not to take ourselves too seriously. That it’s okay to make fun of one another, because we make fun of ourselves. It’s open season in the Marie household. Everyone making fun of another one. If you can’t take it, don’t dish it. Sick, twisted, insane family. The entire family is funny. You being the clown of the family. Gabby with his dry, clever and witty one timers. To Bella’s sarcastic humor that cuts you deep. She embodies closely my style, though I could be vicious. Only a few get me. The more vicious I get, the more I like you, I feel comfortable with you. Freaking weird.

I miss us having our final night cigs before we head to bed.

I miss you saying “I’m jumping in the shower. I’ll meet you up there.”

I miss me getting out of the shower and be engulfed with your favorite perfume.

I miss our nightly rendezvous.

I miss the way you made me feel.

I miss the way I made you feel.

I miss our time together.

I miss being close to you.

I miss feeling your body close to mine.

I miss you telling me you were going to die from an aneurysm after our finish. How ironic.

I miss having cheese and green grapes in bed while watching “Bob’s Burgers.”

I miss that you loved that show.

I miss that you loved sports. You loved your Eagles, your Flyers.

I miss you and I going to the game every week or two when the Flyers are home.

I miss that you were an animal. A fireball.

I miss your laughter and your smile.

I miss that little snort that you made when laughing.

I miss your kiss.

I miss your touch.

I miss your smell.

I miss your favorite perfume, so I wore it this morning. You told me it was a BVLGARI…