My dearest Super,

Today I learned something.

You can leave a room…

And somehow still be everywhere inside it.

I wasn’t expecting that.

I thought I would simply miss you.

I didn’t realize I would keep finding you.

You’re in the coffee mug that somehow became “yours” without either of us ever deciding it.

You’re in the chair my eyes still wander toward before I remember it’s empty for now.

You’re in the songs that make me stop whatever I’m doing because I can almost hear you humming along.

You’re in the quiet.

You’re in the laughter.

You’re even in the pauses.

Especially the pauses.

There are moments throughout the day when something wonderful happens, and before my mind has time to catch up, my heart has already turned toward you.

You know what I miss the most today?

Not your voice. Not your hugs. Not even your kisses (this last one might be a small lie).

I miss the way we exist together.

I miss the easy rhythm we’ve built without ever trying.

The little conversations that start with absolutely nothing.

The comfortable silence that somehow says everything.

The way we can be doing completely different things and still feel connected simply because we’re sharing the same space.

That kind of closeness isn’t loud.

It doesn’t demand attention.

It simply wraps itself around two people until one day they realize…

“This is what home feels like.”

Come home soon, my love.

Your place is still here.

Just as you left it.

Only now…

It’s waiting for you.

Trinity