It’s funny how I keep hoping that this is all a dream.
That you haven’t left.
That I’ll roll over and you’ll be snoring beside me.
I used to wake up and run my hands through your hair.
Now, when I wake up, I have to remind myself that you aren’t there.
Imagine the difficulty.
One day, I’ll be better.
One day, the sound of your voice won’t be like a thousand knives in my heart.
One day I won’t miss you anymore.
Until that day, I’m just here.