Sweet Everythings

Sweet nothings, you call them. The Sun’s arms reaching through my window to wake me at dawn. Rolling over to see a bright light in my face, a “good morning” from him. A steamy waterfall pouring warmth all over me like a heated blanket as I wash off the day before. Salty scrambled egg pillows soaring into my mouth. A peaceful stroll on the journey to class. Music speaking directly to my soul, as if the lyrics were written just for me. Flowers from him on the porch, a welcomed symptom of long distance. Breakfast for dinner because, why not? Crawling into my cave with fuzzy socks and a good book in hand. Drifting into a deep slumber, dreaming of those fictional characters I’ve come to know so well. Doing it all over again the next day. Sweet nothings, you call them. Sweet everythings, I crave them.