24 hours.
Its been 24 hours since I had to say goodbye to you;
And it’s been the worst 24 hours of my life.
I only got ten months to love you.
Ten months of you following me into every room I went into-
So close to me that I tripped over you daily.
This house is so empty without you in it.
I can’t go into a single room without crying;
I walk into my kitchen and I see you laying in front of my fridge.
You’re right by my side in front of the stove patiently waiting for the slice of ham you get every time I make a sandwich-
Or the slices of cheese with your seizure meds hidden inside.
In the living room you’re sitting on the opposite end of the couch chewing on your favorite football or passed out with your head on your pillow;
You loved pillows.
So much so that I didn’t leave the room I had to say goodbye to you in without making a makeshift pillow out of the blanket they’d laid you on to euthanize you-
And I put it under your head in one last act of pure love.
On the staircase you’re racing to the top;
So loud that my neighbor thinks you’re chasing a ball up and down the stairs,
And in the bathroom you’re biting at the shower water that’s spraying off of me.
In the bedroom you’re taking up both sides of the bed-
I have to sleep sideways just to sleep in the same bed with you,
Or let you lay on top of me.
Both options were my favorite.
The drive home was a blur.
I came home to an empty apartment completely broken hearted.
Exhausted.
Devastated.
I couldn’t save you.
It’s been 24 hours since you left me.
And it’s been the worst 24 hours of my life.
