04/17/2026
I didn’t see you…
but I know you were there.
It was one of those quiet moments…
the kind that used to belong to us.
The house was still.
Too still.
The kind of silence that presses against your chest and reminds you of everything you’ve lost.
I was sitting alone…
thinking about you again.
Like I always do.
And then… something shifted.
Not loud.
Not obvious.
Just… gentle.
Like the air softened around me.
Like the emptiness didn’t feel so empty for a second.
I felt it before I understood it.
That warmth.
The same warmth you used to leave behind when you curled up beside me…
the same quiet comfort that needed no words.
My heart stopped for a moment.
Because somehow…
it felt like you.
Not a memory.
Not imagination.
You.
I didn’t move.
I didn’t want to break it.
I just sat there…
letting it wrap around me like you used to.
And for the first time since you left…
I wasn’t reaching for you.
You came to me.
Maybe it was in the way the light fell across the floor…
or the way the room didn’t feel so cold anymore.
Maybe it was nothing I could prove.
But grief doesn’t imagine peace like that.
Not so suddenly.
Not so gently.
Love does.
And love like yours doesn’t just disappear.
It lingers.
It finds its way back.
It touches the places that are still aching and whispers,
“I’m still here.”
I don’t know how long it lasted.
Seconds… maybe.
But it was enough.
Enough to remind me that goodbye isn’t the end.
That somewhere beyond what I can see…
you still find your way to me when I need you most.
So if I sit quietly now…
and the world feels just a little softer…
I don’t question it anymore.
I just close my eyes…
and feel you there. 🐾