He Is Everywhere.
Every where I've been the past couple of days, are places that I have been with him. My mother and I went to town, and I could see us sitting on a bench in October. I can see him sitting in the chair behind where I am now, legs crossed, and even at the computer. I can see us cuddled up where I sleep watching a movie. He is everywhere I am. The music he sang to me comes on the radio, and images of him pop up randomly during the day. I remember conversations that we had while he was home. I expect to wake up in the morning cuddled up behind him, with my arm around his waist. I smoke my first cigarette in the morning, and expect him to be laid down when I come back. I walk quietly so I don't startle him, but loud enough he can hear me coming, and I know he isn't there. I remember the late night conversations, and some of the silliest things you could think of in those conversations. I see the way he plays guitar, and his "air band" when his guitar isn't around. That goofy smile and the way he winks at me, sends me into giggles. I don't know whether to be frustrated because it won't stop, or to be blissful knowing that I have memories of us. The memories make me happy, but they are pervasive. I remember in my sleep, even. Don't have much longer to wait now. Five weeks or so, and he'll be back in Kansas. I'm supposed to go for a visit. I'm excited. :)