Two day's after you died I saw you in meditation. You smiled at me, you held my hand... we walked to the beach together, we sat down and just held hands and watched the surf in silence. The mood felt light and free until I had to come back and then I threw my arms around you and held on, but I just could not stay.
I wish I knew what it all meant.
I wish I knew where you are.
I wish I could explain this thing that I feel, and I could justify my feelings sometimes.
I wish I knew why sometimes I try to remember bad times, just so I won't miss you so much...
I wish I could be there for my child in her pain and allow her to see mine without worrying how it will affect her.
I wish I did not have to be strong, and go on sometimes. I just wish I could pick up the phone and call and hear stories about the dog, and the cleaning lady, and about family.
All those meaningless seeming conversations that seemed so hard to fit in to my schedule now are the thing I miss the most. That, and your laugh.
I wish I could sleep.
I wish I could see you healthy, see you smile and be happy. Hug you and hold you and just tell you that I love you, and I always have. I know you know it, but I just wish I could tell you.
I know it goes without saying, but I miss you so. I would take back my worst days with you right now just to have you here... in these dark, quiet nights I would really take anything.
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