"Are you being honest?" They asked, they ask again. "Are you really experiencing what's happening, so you can really feel those emotions?"
I fall asleep to wake to you standing in front of me, asking if you can cuddle with us after a nightmare.
When I am laughing, I can hear your laughter in the background, tumbling off the couch as you fill home with weird and wonderful noise and movements that only you can make.
There is a basket of fruit on the kitchen counter.
We have wooden flooring.
I'm seeing dolphins leaping up as sunset paints the sky behind them.
You're holding my hand, and so are you.
Yes, yes I am being honest. Too honest sometimes because I have to catch myself before I lean to far forward, only to realize you're just out of reach.