I see him.

I see him everywhere I look.

I see him in the roads that I take, in the buildings that I visits.

I see him in the empty seat.

I see him in the doors that I lock.

I see him in the slippers that were left behind.

I see him in the way that he fixed the bed for me.

I see him in the clothes that he hangs when he irons my clothes.

I see him in the chocolates that he bought on a whim.

I see him in the Advil that he no longer needs.

I see him in every corner of the house where he used to lay down, sit down, wash the dishes.

I see him in the neighbourhood that he loves.

I see him in my phone setting because he used to beg to have an internet connection when we’re out and about.

I see him in the blue sky, because I used to tell him, “hey, look at the clouds. Take a picture of it. It looks so surreal.”

I see him in the stupid way people drive their car, because I usually cussed and he would hold my hands and say, “hey, I know they’re stupid, but we’re here together. It’s going to be fine.”

I see him every time I close the door, because usually he’s there with his arms stretched open, welcoming me in a hug as if to say, “hey, we’re here, we’re safe, the day is over, and there’ll be better days tomorrow for us.”

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.