"All my friends say I'll make it all right/I'll recover and start a new life/But that'll be so hard to do/Cause livin' ain't worth livin' without you"

I make a drink and I think of you, because you bought the glasses.

I get ready for work and I think of you, because you bought the cologne I spray on.

I play music and I think of you, because I hear songs you loved and songs you hated, songs that made me think of you in good times and songs that make me think of you now.

I read a story about someone whose iPhone alarm won't stop ringing, and I think of us, trying to steal a little extra sleep even though the damn thing won't stop going off.

I go out to eat with friends and I think of you, because it's a place we ate with your family, and it was such a wonderful time.

I hear a Jimmy Buffett song and I think of you, because we had two of the best nights ever at Buffett concerts.

I grill meat and I think of you, and that great night we had just a few months ago, cooking a fantastic meal and then drinking red wine and listening to Dino and the Chairman and talking and laughing. I think of how I loved it, because I thought of all the tremendous nights like that we could have together forever, and how you loved it, too. And then I wonder, how did we go from there to here so fast.

I see a movie and I think of you, because I know you would love the goofy parts, and you would laugh that giggle-laugh that only comes when you are completely overtaken, and it is beautiful to see someone so joyous.

I stand in my kitchen and I think of you, because I see a package of pasta in a place where I don't usually put it. You put it there when you helped me unpack groceries a while back, and I left it, partly to not be obsessive and partly because having it there reminded me of you.

I go to the doctor and I think of you, because I have decisions to make, and I value your counsel so, I respect your opinions because I know they come from a pure heart.

Everywhere suddenly, there are women with your name -- the sideline reporter on TV, the person featured in a magazine article. Even in my email, when a new person joins the professional group I'm in, and I process the application, sure enough, it's your name.

Everywhere suddenly, there are cars just like yours all over the road.

I sleep and I think of you, because you're in my dreams. And then I can't sleep anymore, because I confuse dreams and reality, clinging to hope that probably shouldn't be there.

You left me, but you haven't left me. You're here every day, in a thousand ways, and yet you're not here at all. And it hurts, day after day after day.

(The headline, if you're wondering, comes from this song.)