I keep wanting to go home, then I remember that I am. It doesn't feel like home anymore. We are cleaning out your closets, going to buy new furniture, etc. Things are going to change. We are reclaiming the house as though it only belongs to us, but it belongs to you too...in my heart.

It's as though I died with you. I wish that were true. At least temporarily. I want to go where you are, be with you, find answers, know you're OK.

But you aren't. That's the problem. And I'm stuck here, one needle away from a broken back.