One minute her head is in my lap, the next she crawled right on top of me. I don’t even know what I said. I think it was just desperation finding a voice to fill the silence. Did I mention I don’t do well with silence? I used to, but things change, don’t they?

Anyway, she crawled on my lap, and for a minute I thought we were going to, you know. But then she just put her head on my chest, probably cause she didn’t want to look at me. Since the surgery, I don’t blame her. I don’t like to look at me either.

So I gently ran my hand up and down her back, sometimes switching it up with a few spirals and loops. I tried not to think about the future. The past wasn’t much consolation either. In either places I didn’t have her. Only in this brief little window did I feel I could maintain our fragile relationship.