Sunday mornings were a ritual for us my love. In fact, it was one of the traditions that brought us closer over the years. Cooking for the family or "churchgoers" as we called them. I looked forward to Sunday mornings because that's when I had you all to myself. Debrief of the Saturday night. Cuddling and debating what time we should get out of bed.
When we eventually got out of bed, it was straight to the kitchen. A can of beer or a glass of whatever was leftover from the weekend. We'd share it. Whatever it was, we'd have it together. This morning I broke down and cried when I braved the loneliness and headed for the kitchen. I had never felt so alone. I just broke down and cried. My cry pierced through the neighbour's wall and they came to cry with me. Cause they too knew our Sunday ritual in our aprons. We cried together with the neighbours this morning. For you my baby. They will never hear that genuine sweet voice greeting them and asking how they are. The small talk and your infectious laugh. They will miss that every day.
You and I told each other how much we adore one another. It was not always in words but through things we did together. I relied on you and was always guaranteed peace of mind when you were around and I know you felt the same way. I'm writing this note sitting in the kitchen recovering from a good cry and still in shock that I will never kiss those lips as a reward for my "good cooking". And sometimes just because you felt like just holding me and kissing me on my forehead. I always cherish those moments.
Our last cooking session is hardly a month ago. It's devastating to be here without you Lesley. Come back.
You and I told each other how much we adore one another. It was not always in words but through things we did together. I relied on you and was always guaranteed peace of mind when you were around and I know you felt the same way. I'm writing this note sitting in the kitchen recovering from a good cry and still in shock that I will never kiss those lips as a reward for my "good cooking". And sometimes just because you felt like just holding me and kissing me on my forehead. I always cherish those moments.
Our last cooking session is hardly a month ago. It's devastating to be here without you Lesley. Come back.
Get Your Wife Back, Perfect Urgent Love Spell. Am Oliva Giphy
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