I can close my eyes, and suddenly I’m back

 I can close my eyes, and suddenly I’m back.

The sound of your paws on the floor.
The warmth of your fur curled against my leg.
The way your eyes found mine as if we shared a secret only we could understand.
It feels like yesterday still.
Like time didn’t move at all.
Like the world paused the moment you arrived—and never let go.
The ordinary days were extraordinary with you.
Even the quiet ones.
Even the rainy ones.
Even the moments when nothing happened except being together.
I remember every detail.
Your favorite spot by the window.
The gentle way you rested your head on my hand.
The excited wag of your tail when I came home.
I thought those moments would fade.
I thought grief would blur the edges of memory.
But they haven’t.
Not really.
Because love imprints itself.
And yours left marks deeper than time can erase.
Sometimes, I catch myself laughing at a memory I hadn’t thought of in years.
Sometimes I reach for you in an empty room.
Sometimes I sit quietly and hear your presence in the way the air moves or the sunlight falls.
It feels like yesterday still.
Not in sadness.
Not in longing.
But in the way love persists.
The kind of love that doesn’t end when someone leaves this world.
The kind that follows you into quiet mornings, fading sunsets, and every ordinary moment in between.
Somewhere beyond the Rainbow Bridge, I imagine you running through endless meadows, golden sunlight warming your fur.
And in my heart, I know that even now, time has not changed a thing.
Because the love we shared, the bond we had, the joy you gave—it feels like yesterday still.
And maybe that’s exactly how it’s meant to be.