I think of you a lot.

I think of you in the morning when I don’t want to get out of bed. I think of you when I order coffee. I think of you when my suitcase is too heavy. I think of you in bookstores when you’re not there to stop me maxing out my credit cards. I think of you on the days I hate myself for reasons like my hair not growing quickly. I think of you on days I don’t now what to do with. I think of you when I’m trying to decide which dress to buy- which would you like more? I think of you when I’m in the shower. I think of you when I spray myself with perfume. I think of you when I’m putting on lipstick. I think of you when I sit in the garden to write letters. I think of you when someone says something funny on TV. I think of you when I laugh. I think of you when I see them holding hands. I think of you when I win concert tickets. I think of you when I want to celebrate my first A. I think of you when the sun’s out. I think of you when it rains. I think of you when I walk home. I think of you when I buy vegetables. I think of you when I open the door to a dark house. I think of you when I open a bottle of wine. I think of you as I wash the dishes. I think of you when I brush my teeth. I think of you when I dream.

I think of you a lot.

And I haven’t even met you yet.

———-

Alexia / @alexiaroumamas

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Written by Alexia

Her name is Alexia. But that’s just how she knows when her mother’s mad at her. Everyone calls her Lexi, which means word in Greek. It’s no wonder she grew up to become a writer. She was born in Sydney and raised in Athens. She studied in London. Now she lives in Melbourne. She is good at loving cats, wearing red lipstick, and talking French when she’s drunk. She’s bad at paying attention, paying bills, and being a vegan (damn you, ice-cream).

She writes better than she talks, but not as much.

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