Everyone thinks I’m with her.
She thinks I’m with someone else.
But I’m always with him.
He’s always watching me, taking care of me,
observing me.
I can feel it, his presence.
Before I could see him, hug him, feel him.
But since that Saturday afeternoon, everything became a memory.
And the memory became an empty feeling.
They say time heals everything, and it does.
That empty feeling slowly becomes a calming sensation.
The one you feel when you look at the sky,
or when you look at the sea.
That’s when you feel it the most. Him.
Observing, protecting, just above you.
From the stars.
Him. My grandfather
Rainy days