I wonder if you are proud of me

I wonder if you are proud of me, would be proud of me, if you were still alive.

I wonder if you’d tell me to keep writing, to never let my words die, even if my hopes sometimes do. I wonder if you’d tell me to be on my own and stop worrying so much about love. I wonder if you’d smack my arm and tell me to talk to God more than I do.

I wonder if you listen when I pray, if you’re the one watching my footsteps, pushing me through when I feel tired.

I wonder, when it rains and I wake in the middle of the night to the drops hitting my windowpane, if it’s you reminding me I am here, and I am loved.