three years of uncertainty

 

That day, three years ago…

I didn’t see you take your last breath. I only realized that you weren’t breathing anymore. I waited and waited for you to breathe, and you never did. I had wished to witness the moment, to be there for you, with you.
Maybe, you didn’t want me to see it. I don’t know.

Many of your friends came by and surrounded me. It helped. Among all the chaos, commotions and emotions, whenever I had a quiet moment alone with you, I kissed you. On top of your head, on your cheek, on your hand, awash in tears, I repeated. And, I talked to you. It was the first time you didn’t say anything back.
Maybe, you were at last ready to listen. I don’t know.

When they took you away, it was late. I remember the lights of the hearse leaving, then, your friends’ cars. Two dogs remained with me in the house. The house that we purchased, fixed, and made our home, where our happiness and sorrow reside.
Maybe, you needed to leave me here. I don’t know.

 

And, today…

I only know that I missed you every day of the past three years.

Will you keep watching over me?
Will you keep appearing in my dreams?
Will you keep giving me the courage that I need?
Will you keep smiling when I look at your picture?
Will you keep telling my heart that I am not alone?
Will you be there waiting for me when my time comes?
I don’t know.
I just miss you.
I love you … forever.