favourite things//a letter to myself (or my heart, or who i used to be.)

it's your favourite kind of weather tonight.

stormy, windy,

not too cold

but cold enough to want to curl up

on your favourite chair

and soak it all in.

i brewed your favourite cup of chai tonight.

ginger, cinnamon and tea leaves

steeped in water and 

boiled with milk

for as long as it takes to sing two 

of your favourite songs.

i made your favourite bowl of maggi tonight.

soupy, but not too soupy.

it's warm and comforting.

i leaned forward and let the 

steam condense on my face

like you used to do.

i leaned my head against the windowsill and 

drew smiley faces on the window

with my breath.

i listened to your favourite album on repeat

using every lyric, every melody,

to try and call you home.

it's been a while since i've heard you sing

or seen you dance like you did before.

i wait at the door and i worry 

for you, out there

alone, punishing yourself

for a crime you did not commit.

so i make all your favourite things

and i sing all your favourite songs

while the world outside storms

the way you like it to

and i call your name. 

please, come home.

you can say that i'm just trying to 

invoke your presence, summon you

like a demon. but you are not

a demon. you are not

a lost cause.

you are not alone.

i know you're scared of hurting

and being hurt again

i know you fear that what you've lost

is lost for good.

but your favourite things are still here

and there is still peace to be found.

i'd love to see you smile again

or laugh and roll your eyes

or sigh and melt into

your love's arms

i'd love to see you be at peace

with yourself.

so please,

come back home.

your favourite things are 

waiting here for you

with a 'welcome home' hug.

and this time, i hope you stay.