Your Absence

Your absence has not gone unnoticed. I still miss you every day since you passed. I'm still waiting by the phone, re-listening to your voice-mails, wishing I had asked you to show me how to make goulash, wishing I could tell you about being able to finally eat rice again, wishing the Mondays weren't stretching out before me in weeks, months and years.

I am still feeling the pain of your loss. I am still waiting for you to call me, feeling guilty for not having called that last week you were here, wishing I could do it all over, wanting to see you again.

I know it sounds selfish to other people. They must not understand what its like to not be able to breath, because you feel like someone just kicked you in the ribs. They must not understand what its like to crumple to the ground, because you suddenly don't know how to stand. They must not understand what its like to lose someone that you believed, foolishly, would live forever.

I want you back. I want you here. I want you to annoy me by constantly calling. I want you to tell the TV people that they don't know what they're talking about. I want you to do that funny little dance you would do whenever you were getting up to go do something. I want to be in your too hot house while you grumble about all the cooking you have to get done.

I want you back, because I'm looking at a calendar full of empty Mondays and I just don't know what to do without you. And they say these things fade with time, but I don't think it will. I don't think I'll ever get over this.