I miss your smell and your style and your pure abiding way. Miss your approach to life and your body in my bed. Miss your take on anything and the music you would play. Miss cracking up and wrestling and our debriefs at end of day. These are things that I miss. These are not times for the weak of heart. These are the days of raw despondence. I never dreamed I would have to lay down my torch for you like this. I miss your neck and your gait and your sharing what you write. Miss you walking through the front door documentaries in your hand. Miss traveling our traveling and your fun and charming friends. Miss our big sur getaways. And to watch you love my dogs. These are things that I miss. These are not times for the weak of heart. These are the days of raw despondence. I never dreamed I would have to lay down my torch for you like this. One step one prayer I soldier on simulating moving on. I miss your warmth and the thought of us bringing up our kids. And the part of you that walks with your stick-tied handkerchief. These are things that I miss. These are not times for the weak of heart. These are the days of raw despondence. I never dreamed I would have to lay down my torch for you like this. These are things that I miss. These are not times for the weak of heart. These are the days of raw despondence. I never dreamed I would have to lay down my torch for you like this