That Familiar Smell

As I walked up the steps to our apartment, I noticed a familiar smell. The last time I encountered it was last summer when I had to go home ahead of Noel. It's the smell of an empty apartment.

Noel left this afternoon for SF. He'll be back next week.

I've always been amazed at the oneness that envelopes my parents. Two beautiful individuals that fit perfectly to complete a puzzle. I saw that in my grandparents, too. I'm also seeing it with my bro and my sis-in-;aw. And now, I'm experiencing the same thing. I love it.

Between now and last summer, we've grown together and on each other.

I love it that I have grown accustomed to sleeping beside him and waking up next to him each and every morning. I love it that even if we have our alone time, I can sense him in the next room, steadily typing away on his laptop. I love it that while I'm in the kitchen, I'll just here a: "Soot?" (that's what we call each other) and I say: "Yes?" and he'll say: "How are you?" and then I'll say: "Ok!" And I absolutely love it that he knows what's on my mind. That sometimes, he says what I'm just about to utter.

And this is precisely why I miss him now.

I know, I know. Give it ten to twenty more years and I'd welcome every moment I spend without him. Maybe. Maybe not. But I miss him now and I hope I can sleep soundly tonight. As peaceful as I do when I'm beside him.