All the Things I Wanted to Tell You
This morning started with panic, heavy enough that my arms hurt from holding back the urge to grab my phone. Thirty minutes felt like forever. The silence nearly broke me.
Then came the errands. So many of them. I wanted to tell you about every single one. The weird pickle‑flavored cucumber crisps at Costco — strange but strangely good. The crushing disappointment when Sam’s Club didn’t have the sugar‑free iced tea, and the annoyance of hunting it down at another one. The 24‑pack of water I hauled home like a task warrior. How I laughed seeing that Liquid Death now makes electrolyte packets.
Every little thing made me ache with the thought: “This is exactly the kind of silly detail I would’ve texted you.”
But instead, all I had was one‑word replies from you, and a pit in my stomach that those crumbs are all I get now.
So I took a bath. Hot, soothing, washing away some of the ache. It wasn’t a permanent fix, but at least for a little while, I felt clean again.
Goodnight. 🌙














