Big Hole

There's still such a big hole in me where you aren't.

I miss your presence, your look, your laugh.
I miss someone to (not) talk to, but there anyway.
I miss company.
I miss laughing together.
I miss plans.

I see you every day. In Tammy's work, and Warren's walk, and Hailey's big brown eyes. In every corner of my house, where you never were, but are somehow still there. (Such an add, otherly feeling) I hear you sometimes as I lay drowsing, or as I begin to rouse. (Rousing and drowsing -- where I find Rex.)

Warren makes me laugh, but its a different kind of laughter.

I try not to bother you where you are. You should be free from earthbound problems. You deserve enjoyment and freedom and all that stuff.
Sometimes I just need to talk.

Sometimes I just need to rest my eyes on you, but you are only a picture and a memory. (Well, pictures and memories.)

I don't know how to go on like this.
Not that I have much choice, since the days come and the nights go as they always have.

I miss you.