I think sometimes I see you. Your car in the distance, your profile in a crowd or your laugh in a different isle of the grocery store. Even though you never laughed in grocery stores.
I can be okay, then see someone holding hands and remember how our hands met perfectly to hold as we walked. Its so easy to think that no one else could have loved the way we did.
I'm not the same person I was when you were here. I'm both weaker and stronger. I wonder if I will always be weepy. But what does it mean when I wake one morning and am not sad at your absence? That in itself will be a sad day