And for sure it never will be again.
Sunday is the last day of the week my Love and I were together and it was Sunday night going into Monday morning that he left.
This past year every Sunday has marked one more week since the last time I held him and hugged him. The last time we were able to speak to each other, the last time I saw him smile, heard him laugh. Took it for granted we would have more time.
Now Sundays are so empty. I go to Church and I miss having him there next to me. I rattle around the house, wishing I could hear his voice.
Tonight marks 49 weeks. It still doesn't seem real.