A conversation with you in my head

I don't believe you are in heaven looking down on me.

I don't believe that you are watching out for me nor do I believe 

that you are a red cardinal at the feeder or a butterfly in the garden.

Your absence is heavier than I ever thought it would be.

I so badly want to lay eyes on you again. I want to kiss you and hold hands.

I want to smell you and feel you scooch close to me as we sleep together.

I want to ride our Harley on a sunny day with your hand resting on my thigh.

I want to walk the dog around the block without crying at the corner of Maple and Ash because for some odd reason that is where I miss you the most.....on a street corner.

I went grocery shopping and saw all of your favorite things you liked to eat on the shelves and I froze in the aisle deciding if I wanted to buy them anyway.

Our boy drives your truck now, that huge ginormous Ford F-250.

For a split second me and the dog both forget as it pulls in the driveway who is actually driving it.

We are getting ready to sell the boats and I realized that I will never get to sit in the middle of the lake with you and watch you fish anymore.

I can still smell that water and I remember how I always told you that it felt like silk as I dragged my hands through the water as you trolled around the west end searching for "Walter" the big Pike.

I've cried a lot as I wrote this and I'm tired now so I'm gonna go take a nap.

Love you Hon.