Are You Thinking Of Me Too? Poem by Drac Mal

I guess I betetr get used to this.
Waking up.
Not seeing you.
Not feeling the tender touch of your fingers swaying down my bare back.
Not seeing your morning smile in return of mine.
I rub my eyes.
And I see nothing.
I feel nothing.
Not your gentle hands agaisnt my hair.
Seperating each strand one by one.
Not even the soothing sound of your whistle waiting for me to wake up.
Nothing.
Nothing but the silent morning.
Not even the light entering through my bedroom window could brighten the way I'm feeling right now.
In this empty room.
This quiet bedroom where I lay.
On my bed.
Alone.
Where are you?
I can't help but ask that very question.
I guess it's better like this.
You go your way.
And I go mine.
Let us go our seperate ways.
We both agreed on it.
We both decided that that's what's best.
Right now.
But I can't help but wonder,
are you thinking about me?
Right now?
As much as I am of you?
Is it hard for you to get used to it?
Like it is for me?
Don't you dare touch someone else's bare back when the sun rise!
Don't you dare introduce someone else's morning with your tender, brilliant kiss.
At least not until I could get used to it.
Get over our bitter mournful reality.
'Cause I just can't stand the thought of someone else's lips being touched by yours.
Someone else's body being touched by your tender fingers.
No, not now.
Not right now.
I guess I better get up now.
Even if getting up means not seeing you.
Not feeling you.
Not hearing you.