"Goodnight, Baby"

I still dream about you. Running into your arms with that feeling of comfort knowing that no matter how far I jump you will catch me before I hit the ground. I scream out your name in my sleep and wake with this ache in my chest. I don't pretend you're around anymore. I don't let myself look forward to the memories we could have had. And every time someone mentions death, I cry like you're leaving me all over again. I've played tough. And they'll never know you existed but I wish I could keep the shakes at bay and your whistles far from my ears. Sometimes I can still hear them and feel your callused hand on the back of my neck guiding me. And I'll never cook eggs in the microwave or eat ice cream at 3 in the morning without thinking of you. I can still see you with your shades on in the dimly lit bathroom with your music blaring loud from those speakers and your head nodding to the beat. No one will ever compare and I can never begin to explain why I could never stop or how hard it was to pretend that I was fine. You still haunt me in my sleep with those three words that keep getting harder to say: I and Love and You.