lump
Still missing him.
Random things throughout the day will make me catch my breath. I’m sure my face goes swiftly red, then pale at that moment, but it’s never happened in front of a mirror. Not yet.
It’s starting to become a hardened lump in my chest, in my throat. If I don’t think about it, I don’t notice it. But when I do, I realize it’s been there all along, impacting everything.
I’m ready for us not to be separate anymore. I’m ready to not cry everyday (though no tears yet today). I’m ready to sleep curled up next to him, to simply reach out my hand in the night to feel him there — not that I need the physical contact to know he’s inches from me.
I’m ready for the wedding picture I snatched from my parents’ kitchen to not be the only representation of him I have.
