IIIIII.

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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