His shoes. Why do we keep them there, right where he left them? So many things have been put away, why leave something so small and seemingly meaningless? Because they are proof he was here. Proof he wasn't just a beautiful dream we woke up from, or that we are not in the middle of a terrible nightmare. There are times when I think about him and think he was too good to be true. His contagious laugh, big fluffy cheeks, his pouty lips, his adorable side grin, his big bear hugs. He sounds like a figment of my imagination. They are a piece of his existence and presence. The laces are still tied because he always just shoved them off, never unlaced them. The right one is cleaner than the left because he ALWAYS kicked off his left shoe. They still smell like his little stinky feet because he hated socks more than he hated shoes. They are stretched on the sides because he had really fat feet. Whenever we walk past his shoes, it's not a reminder he is gone, God knows we don't need to be reminded. It's a reminder he was here. And although he seemed too perfect to actually be, he was. We didn't imagine him, or dream him up. His shoes are real. Just like him. He was here with us and that's where he wanted his shoes.Â
