you keep me present

It’s Sunday and I’m lying on the sofa
while you make macaroni and cheese in the kitchen.
The TV is making noise but I’m not paying attention to it.
I rarely do.
I’m listening to the sounds of your footsteps
and the clinking of the cookware.
I’m listening to you doing normal things
and breathing life into this house.
And it is such a beautiful ruckus.
Those are the sounds of love and contentment
that I’m so afraid to lose.
Those are the sounds that interrupt my terrible mind,
and save me from myself.
Those are the sounds that fill the empty space
and verify that yes, I am still present
yes, I am still loved,
and yes,
I am still here.