Rainy days

It’s days like this when I miss you. When it’s rainy outside and everything is coming down on me. You always made it better in such an effortless way. You’d call to tell me hello and that I am beautiful. Those little notes filling my email reminding me that tomorrow will be better.

You’ll work on the house and do all the laundry. You’d tell me just to focus on work and my studies. You’d pay the bills and make dinner. You feed the dog and find my glasses when I throw a fit in the morning rush. You start my car on mornings when it’s freezing outside, because you know I hate the cold. You put my towel in the dryer when I take a bath so it’s warm when I get out. You take my calls even when you’re in board meeting and people are grilling you about how you run your organization.

You change the CDs in my car because you know I don’t make time. You leave my drawers open, even though you hate it, because I like them like that. You leave love notes in my car and in my books. A reminder that life is more than rushing to the next big thing. Reminders that I can do anything I put my mind to.

I cry because you don’t buy me anything sentimental for my birthday. Two days later a picture of Dr. John at his piano comes in the mail from my favorite photographer. You bought it because you like the way I looked when he played, my eyes amazed by his talent. I wondered why it you took so long to get beer during that show.

You tell everyone how great I am, even though I haven’t shown you my good side in weeks. You point out to your mother that I do a better job of cooking some of her dishes. You wake me up in the middle of the night to tell me that you saw a new talent in me that day.

You promise to never leave me.

I make you go.

I tell you to take care of yourself. I tell you that I’m fine on my own.

But on days like this, these cold rainy days when everything is coming at me at once, I whish for just one moment you would open the door and hug me. I wish I would walk into the house and see you and the dog smiling at me, eating your horrible jambalaya and telling me bad jokes. I miss you, my friend. It’s cold over here without you.