lonely

Tonight, I watched both cats sit down at the front door for a few minutes, just like they used to do when they would wait for Shawshank to come through it. And then I burst into tears.

The one where she’s surrounded by junk on the couch and whining because she’s alone.

“I just realized something yesterday,” he told me. “I’m probably going to be in here for my birthday.” Around this time last year, we had a very similar conversation. Yet another hearing had been postponed, this time rescheduled to a date shortly before his birthday. We had been laying in bed, I was the big…