Sometimes

This is a photo he took so he could see what these frames looked like on his face. He couldn’t see clearly without his glasses so he took a photo, put his glasses on, and looked at it.

Sometimes I have a really bad day, when I’m missing him so much. And then the space between my waist and my breasts—part of what my Pilates instructor calls my core—is tight, as though it is readying for a gut punch. Which is silly, because the punch was almost two years ago. But I keep bracing for it anyway, which makes me feel like I can’t breathe. 

And then I don’t know what to do—what can you do when you can’t breathe?