I miss you.

I miss the jokes. I miss the laughter. I miss the hugs. I miss the stories. I miss the front porch talks and the smell of aftershave and cigars. I miss breakfast dates. I miss your face. I miss turning the kitchen corner and hearing the TV. I miss you. Simply you.

Two long years. I've grown, I've made mistakes, I've been happy, I've been sad, I've been depressed, I've been mellow, I've been myself. But everyday, at some point in the day, I think of you, and I smile. I hope your happy, where ever you rest. Know that I will always love you.

I can't believe it's been two years, since Bob's suicide. It's almost unimaginable. I still have moments where I'll think of something or see something, and I think I should tell Bob that. But then it hits me, I can't. I don't think I'll ever get used to the feeling of you being gone. It just doesn't seem right.

Until we meet again.

[P.S. She misses you more.]