Today was a particularly quiet Sunday. We feel him everywhere and for some reason, not one of us bothered to fight the feeling of longing he left behind.
I wonder when the sad days would end. We all tried to go about the usual Sunday nuances but it was inescapable.
Sunday was about going to church with him driving, big lunch, long meryenda and a complaint that we wanted to go to the mall again with no intentions of buying anything.
Him being gone is an awful feeling, but missing him is worse.
Would you even fight for me, when the opportunity calls for it? Will there be time when you’ll defend me to the skin of your teeth just to be with me? Will you be happy fighting for me?
the salt of your skin 