Every year the beginning of the June was so joyful. I had plans of how to surprise him on Father’s Day and after you left the start of the month is so depressing.
I miss him each passing day but at times the desire to touch him, to be wrapped in his arms, head on his chest, his palm on my head, his voice uttering my name is so strong that no other thing and no other being can fulfill his absence.
As the days are passing by, I am encountering success, with each successful moment. I miss him even more. In crowd, in the moments of merrymaking; my eyes wander to and fro just to have your look around. I stop at places I smell your fragrance at.
Every such day, or a month enlisting such days; is a throbbing reminder of his deficiency in my life.