I Miss Him More

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I returned alone from our first consulate meeting, as we knew I would. It was uncomfortable, sleeping alone again as I had done for 22 years before I met him. My space no longer felt full, no matter how much furniture or knick-knacks I had collected over the years.

In an effort to bring a little bit of sunshine to my place, I offered to have two sons of a friend spend the night. These two little guys are like family to me, and they jumped at the chance to stay the night. So I blew up the air mattress on my bedroom floor, rented some Wii games, and bought Hungry, Hungry Hippos.

We had a blast from the time they arrived in the late afternoon until it was time for bed. We talked for a few minutes before turning off the lights. For a while, all was silent.

I was drifting off to sleep when I heard a little voice from the floor.

“Sarah?”

“Yeah?” I said groggily.

He paused for a moment. “I miss Salvador.”

“Me too,” I assured him.

“Yeah, well, I miss him more.”

Somehow I doubt that, but I did not argue.

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