I still wait a second

 I still wait a second.

Just one second.
Every time I walk through the front door.
It's become a habit my heart refuses to break.
I unlock the door.
Step inside.
And for the briefest moment, I pause.
Waiting.
Listening.
Hoping.
As if I might hear the familiar sound of paws racing across the floor to greet me.
As if I might see you come around the corner with that happy look that could turn the hardest day into a good one.
It's strange how grief hides inside the smallest moments.
Not the big anniversaries.
Not the holidays.
But ordinary seconds.
The ones no one else notices.
The ones that belonged only to us.
You used to make coming home feel special.
It didn't matter if I had been gone for ten hours or ten minutes.
To you, every return was worth celebrating.
Your tail would wag so hard it looked like pure joy had taken shape.
Your eyes would light up.
And suddenly, whatever stress I had carried through the day didn't seem so important anymore.
Home wasn't a place.
It was you.
Now the door still opens.
The keys still land on the counter.
The house still looks exactly the same.
But something precious is missing.
Sometimes the silence greets me first.
And for a moment, it feels unbearable.
The kind of silence that reminds me how much love once lived here.
I still catch myself glancing toward your favorite spot.
Still expecting to see you stretched out in a patch of sunlight.
Still imagining the soft sound of your collar jingling somewhere nearby.
And then reality settles in again.
You aren't waiting by the door anymore.
At least not in the way you used to.
But lately, I've started thinking about something.
What if love doesn't stop waiting?
What if you're still the first soul to greet me...
Just from somewhere my eyes can't reach?
What if every warm feeling that meets me at the door...
Every memory that suddenly makes me smile...
Every moment when the house feels less empty than it should...
Is your way of saying,
"Welcome home."
Because love like yours was never limited to a body.
It was bigger than that.
Stronger than that.
It was the kind of love that follows a person forever.
I imagine you now beyond the Rainbow Bridge.
Running through endless fields beneath skies painted with gold and soft rainbow colors.
Healthy.
Happy.
Free.
Yet somehow still watching the path that leads back to me.
Still wagging your tail.
Still excited every time my heart remembers you.
And maybe one day, after all the years have passed, I'll open another door.
A door far beyond this world.
And there you'll be.
Not after a second.
Not after a moment of waiting.
Right there.
Running toward me with the same joy you've always had.
As if we had only been apart for a day.
Until then, I'll keep pausing when I come home.
I'll keep waiting that one second.
Not because I haven't accepted your goodbye.
But because loving you became part of who I am.
And somewhere deep inside, my heart still expects to be greeted by its best friend.
Maybe that's what love does.
It keeps a place for someone long after they're gone.
And honestly...
I'm glad it does. 
Forever loved.
Forever missed.
Forever worth waiting for.