Some things you take for granted and it doesn’t really hit you until you wake up at 4 or 5 in the morning and she’s missing.  Her side of the bed is cold and empty but you leave your hand there trying to remember the feeling.  Trying to grasp any heat that was once there.  When you have a bad dream, she doesn’t have to tell you that it was only a dream… all you had to do was open your eyes and see her sleeping.  To wake up to that… the things we take for granted.  My memory is flawed,  so I remember feelings more than events, emotions rather than moments.  How a certain song triggers a page or how a breeze can blow back a kiss.  I see her figure sitting by the bed as I try to open my eyes,  the light through the curtains made it almost impossible.  She smiled and I said, “good morning”.  The things we took for granted.

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