He's not at work.
He's not hunting.
He's not at the cabin.
He's not working in the fields.
He's not roping.
He is gone.
I hate getting assaulted with that fact ten times a day.
I know what happened.
I've been living without him for four months.
But for some phyco reason, I keep expecting him to come home.
And then it hits me again.
Like a hard slap in the face.
Why won't it sink in??????
