Mourning or "Any minute now"

 

Every day begins the same.  

I wake up on the couch wearing Andy's clothes, unable to sleep in our bed, having stayed up very late the night before because that's what I did when he was away on business trips.  

I make our coffee, put something sweet on a plate for him, pull out his chair and cry for the next 4 hours.

Andy should be coming down the stairs any minute.  He should be typing on his laptop, sharing a news story with me, showing me a picture of a cute dog.  Then it'll be time to take Juno out...

Any minute now he should be walking into the kitchen.

Any minute now.