Just my imagination
I like the quote, not so much the art.
Sometimes after a hard day when the regular distractions don’t quite work and the house seems big and quiet, I find myself missing him in that way that makes me feel like pretending that none of it happened. I go upstairs to bed by myself, as I do every night.
I’m a side sleeper and I curl up with my Kindle with my back to Randy’s side of the bed. And I think that maybe he’s there, getting ready to climb into bed next to me.
I know he isn’t there, but maybe if I don’t look over my shoulder he’s there. I know he isn’t, but if I don’t look over my shoulder…