Every now and then I miss little things about him

How he called me katze

the freckles on his back

the tattoo on his lower tummy

how he would ask me to scratch his arms and massage his wrists

how he was with my cats

the little dents in his face from old scars

how he would always drive with one hand on the wheel so he could hold mine with the other

when his Grandma called him by his real name

the strange music he always played to help him sleep

i can’t imagine ever knowing someone that intimately again, and that makes feel sad and at a loss