IIIIII.

Saturday, February 06, 2016

It has been six years since you left.
Many days have passed.
I tried to count them, but I couldn’t get it quite right.  You know math wasn’t my strong subject.

I may not be able to do math, but I did succeed in school. 
I got two degrees.  I put your name on both of them.  They’re yours just as much as mine.
I also got a job, and a car. 
I didn’t get a husband but I figured that would be okay with you.

Sometimes I forget that you’re gone, and I pray for you to be well.
Sometimes I forget that you’re gone, because your number is still saved on my phone.
(Every once in a while I toy with the idea of calling.)
Sometimes I forget that you’re gone, and when I remember it hurts so badly that I have to sit down and catch my breath.
It’s like there is a hole in my life that you used to fill, and every so often I fall in and can’t get out.
I’m still adjusting to a world where you’re not here.

I wish you were still here.
I wish you were still here.
I wish you were still here.

I know you do too.

- J

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