[She clings to the words as much as she wants to argue with them. He was gone even if it was only a few days. It was a few days of not knowing if she'd ever see him again or hold him or see that recognition in his eyes. They felt endless at the time and the fact that she did all those things didn't bring him back exactly as she'd had him. It brought back someone just as if not more broken than she'd been mourning an entirely different loss. But she did want to believe through all of that she hadn't lost him entirely. That he was still with her in some way. That she still occupied some place in his heart.
The tears are coming before she has a chance to hold them back and she really, really wishes she could have held them back. She's tired and a little ashamed of feeling so vulnerable and raw in all this.]