I have this dream where

I’m missing something valuable

I wake up and make my coffee

I spoon oatmeal into a bowl

The air feels still and silent

Then electrons stir

You walk in like nothing

A slight smile as if to say good morning

I’m startled, I’m stunned

You’ve been gone

But I don’t know why

Why did you leave me?

Were you ever gone to begin with?

Why did these tears appear?

You stop short of where I sit

I stand and get close

I’m afraid to touch you

I reach out to see if you feel as solid as you seem

But then, no

You’re not solid, you’re not real

The room is empty again

You died

That’s why you’ve been gone

The room is always empty

You’re never there for breakfast

You’re never in the living room

Never watching television

Never getting ready for work

Never reading bedtime stories to our darling boys

Never slipping in beside me at night

There’s just an emptiness

Dark, heavy emptiness

That lingers in the rooms where you used to be

And then I wake up

I reach for you as if to confirm what I know

Just emptiness on your side of the bed

I never knew emptiness could weigh so much

I never knew emptiness could cling

It even follows me to my dreams