#im fucking sobbing on the toulet rn

[babylovepresley]

the face i once held

TW: references to elvis’ death, ANGST, SKIP TO 1:31 FOR THE FULL EFFECT, christmas sadness

when i close my eyes, i can still feel him. he exists in me, he is my unshakeable force. it’s my first christmas without him, and now what? i stand alone at the gates, like i had never known him at all. like i had never taken him into my arms and wept and waited for a soft exhale from his nose to let me know he was here, and he still loved me.

i watch as graceland springs to life; unable to look away from the life i had once lived. a part of me wants to peer through the window and see elvis’ smiling face, wearing a velvet santa cap proudly. i stare ahead of me, and i know he isn’t coming. i can’t move, i can barely breathe without him here. it feels wrong to smile and be holly and jolly or whatever i’m supposed to be without him.

the snow pounds down outside, and i imagine what it would be like to hold him now. a chill runs up my spine as the cold winter wind picks up; without him i doubt i’ll ever be warm again. just to feel him, to be held by him one more time… to rest my chin on his head and coax him to sleep like a child on christmas eve would be the greatest gift of all.

“alright y’all… lights up in 3!” the groundskeeper yells, and the women surrounding me at the gate yell in excitement as we stare.

i’m reminded of our first christmas together, nearly 6 years ago. he was so happy, i used to joke he shouldn’t be decorating the tree, but rather on top of it for all the world to see. he’d giggle and scrunch his nose, and if i try hard enough i can feel the wrinkles under my fingertips; though they’re numb now. he was always so excited to decorate, my sweet boy. i wonder if he’d like the decorations this year, i wish i could ask him.

“elvis?”

“yes babydoll?”

“do we really need six different types of garland?” i’d joke, knowing how tedious he got about decorating perfectly

stepping down from the stool beside the large christmas tree (that he cut himself, but was definitely too big for graceland) he sighed “WHA— baby, of course we do. how else is sandy clause gonna find us?”

“ i don’t know baby, maybe the giant reindeer on the lawn might help!” i joke

“hmmmmm” his eyebrows raise with the smirk i love so well, “sounds like somebody don’t want an early christmas gift…”

at that i turned my head. i hated when he spent money on me. to me, i got the greatest joy from just being with him; just speaking and hearing him speak.

“baby, i thought we weren’t gonna do gifts this year?”

“awh i know we said we weren’t but i was not about to let my best girl wake up on christmas mornin’ without sparklin’… c’mere baby ‘n close your pretty lil eyes”

quietly i walk towards him and close my eyes as he grips the sides of my arms. a beat of silence passes when i feel an aggressive “mwah!” on my lips, and something placed around my neck.

a gorgeous gold locket sits on my neck, dancing in the light of the tree that elvis put way too much ornaments on… but i’d never tell him that.

“oh elvis! it’s gorgeous…”

“ya like it baby?”

“i-i love it.. thank you so much” i tear up and move to open the locket,

“no no no baby! thas for when i go away, whenever ya miss me too much on the road yanno?”

for him, anything. so i ended my curious movement, and smiled in thanks, gripping his hands to my heart.

“thank you baby, but i didn’t get you anything…”

“well thas’ alright puppy i think i know a way you can make it up to me” he jokes, always with that suggestive glint in his eyes.

he pulls me to his chest, flopping backwards onto the couch and kissing me. the wind whistled through the window as he kissed me, holding me flush to him; afraid to let go. the lights of the christmas tree reflect on his face, and i swore i’d never forget how beautiful he looked.

i stare at that same window, half expecting to close my eyes and be back on that couch with him. when everything was good, and he was still mine. and he was still here.

the lights come up and cheers surround me, but i am lonelier than ever before. silently, i look to the sky… i look for him. i’ll always look for him, i think. for the rest of my life i will.

i cup the locket in my hands. it has faded and rusted with time, much like i have. my fingers trace over the inscription of the heart, and i pluck at the latch to open it.

my favorite photo of him sends the tears rolling down my frozen, wind whipped cheeks. he smiles so proudly as he holds the axe that cut down our first tree. the jacket he wears was too big for him, and i laugh slightly, bringing the picture to my frozen lips in a kiss. it’ll never be him, but i kiss it nonetheless, hoping i can feel his kind lips against mine again.

on the other side of the locket, my eyes bore into a little note written in his own messy handwriting.

merry christmas baby, i’m thinking of you always.