Here She Comes Again

Here she comes again

She sits next to me on the couch, and we watch a movie. Then I go to bed, and she says “good night, I’ll see you tomorrow”

The next time I see her, she is standing behind me in the kitchen as I load the dishwasher. She says nothing. Just watches me with that smirk on her face. You know the one, it says “oh yeah. he’s mine” proudly and boldly.

And then. In the middle of the night, when I’m lying there staring at the ceiling praying for sleep, she comes. She lies next to me, drapes her arm across my chest, and we both drift off to sleep. She has this quiet little snore, but I never tell her. I keep it for me.

Sometimes, when it’s quiet in the house, I will hear her laughing at something she is watching in her office. She is going to share it with me, and I will have to feign that I enjoyed it as much as she did. And I do.

And now I am driving to anywhere and she is in the passenger seat yelling at the car in front us, “THE LINES ARE THERE FOR A REASON JACK ASS!!” and I laugh and watch as she turns to me and says “Hey, let go get pancakes”, And we do. At midnight.

These little moments make up the day. They haunt me when I’m awake and tease me in my sleep.

It is vicious, insidious, and painful.

But it is necessary. Because these images must stay with me. No matter how cruel it may be I can not, will not let go.

I know someday they will lessen, and it won’t hurt so much to see her.

Right…?