I woke up and there she was; half naked with her long hair all around her pillow. I could see her backside, she slowly turned around, facing me. She smiled with her eyes still closed, like if she knew I was staring at her. Her hair tickled my arm so I pulled it back and I could see her face clearly. She started touching my hair slowly, I could almost fall asleep but I didn’t want to. She jumped over me and kissed me in a cute/sexy/funny kind of way. She was always so full of life and perky in the morning. I smiled a little and kissed her back. We’d stay in bed for a while on days like this, just under the sheets. I could feel her feet tickling mine and I hugged her again. She smiled with her eyes still closed. She was beautiful and happy. She was childish and naive too. She was mine on days like this one. All mine. We’d wake up and watch tv, she’d jump over me again in a very annoying way only she could pull off. She had my shirt on. It looked better on her anyway. We’d spend the whole day like this, just us, doing absolutely nothing, wasting our time together. Then she’d leave, leaving pieces of her everywhere, sometimes cute little dresses, sometimes underwear, sometimes shoes, sometimes it was the flower she religiously wore on her hair. There was always something there, to remind me she had been there. I kept it all in the same drawer. Sometimes I’d just leave it on the floor. Just pieces of her. I knew she’d come back for them some day. And it’d be the same old story, or maybe it won’t and she’ll just leave me all these stuff for me to throw away.