I still expect you

 I still expect you.

That's the part no one talks about.
Not the crying.
Not the sleepless nights.
Not the ache that settles into your chest.
It's the expecting.
The quiet, automatic ways my heart still believes you're here.
I still expect to hear your paws when I unlock the front door.
I still expect that happy little rush of excitement that used to greet me after even the shortest trip away.
For a split second, every time.
My hand reaches for a moment that no longer exists.
Sometimes I drop a piece of food while cooking and instinctively glance toward the floor.
Waiting for the sound of eager paws.
Waiting for those hopeful eyes.
Waiting for you.
And then the silence reminds me.
Again.
There is a spot near the window where the sunlight pools every afternoon.
You loved that spot.
Some days, when the light falls just right, I catch myself looking over there.
Expecting to see your body stretched out in the warmth.
Your chest rising and falling peacefully.
Your ears twitching as you dreamed.
But the sunlight arrives alone now.
And somehow, that hurts more than words can explain.
The world keeps teaching me that you're gone.
Yet my heart keeps forgetting.
Because love creates habits that don't disappear when a life ends.
It keeps setting a place for them.
Keeps listening for them.
Keeps looking for them in every familiar corner.
But lately, I've begun to see something beautiful hidden inside all that expecting.
Maybe it isn't my heart refusing to heal.
Maybe it's my heart refusing to stop loving.
Because every time I expect you, it means a part of me still carries you.
Every glance toward your favorite spot.
Every moment I listen for your footsteps.
Every instinct that reaches for you.
They're all reminders of how deeply you mattered.
And I like to imagine that somewhere beyond the Rainbow Bridge, you still expect me too.
Maybe when a breeze moves through the meadow, you lift your head.
Maybe when a star appears, your tail begins to wag.
Maybe you look toward Heaven's horizon and think,
"Not yet... but one day."
Until then, I'll keep carrying you through these ordinary days.
And if I still expect you sometimes...
If I still turn toward the door.
If I still listen for your paws.
Then maybe that's okay.
Because love doesn't leave just because someone does.
It stays.
It waits.
And it remembers.
So yes, my beautiful friend...
I still expect you.
And somehow, I hope I always will.