My first apartment

I’m moving into my first apartment
I have lists for each room
but each room something is missing an item or you
the living room will have a couch,
green or pink,
a record player with songs we will never sit and listen to together
books you will never stand by, 
look at me and mock me for my love of fantasy,
I will never tell you in answer “Before you, I thought the best things didn’t exist.”
the bathroom will have a lonely towel,
my toothbrush lavender and alone.
Skincare spread over the sink surface
to hide the fact you aren’t there,
that I don’t share my most intimate spaces with you that we no longer brush our teeth
or start our day with each other.
I plan the kitchen,
the meals I will cook,
the friends I will host
but I cannot settle on a table
every time I look I don’t see friends or family I see me and you,
shared breakfasts and dinners cooking and cleaning up together
dancing in the kitchen
I see protein shakes and pasta and brownies out of a box
but made with so much love you can’t taste the difference
but when that all fades
I see me sitting alone on a cold bench or chair
no I will not get a table
I will sit on the floor and eat
I will tell people I have no need for a table and it will be true
and once my house is filled with love
my friends and family and another too
I will buy a table because maybe I won’t feel the absence of you.