321 days…

Why is it that I still feel excited when I hear the noise of a motorbike pull up outside.  Part of me things you re home, and then another part of me has to remind myself that it can’t be you.

I still cannot fathom the fact that you will never come home.

I clean more stuff from the office and have to resort things that I’ve put in the “keep” pile in case you need them.  Hello!  YOU won’t ever need them again.

It’s torture.

I miss you.

I wish I didn’t.

I wish you’d never gone.

I love you.