There's a moment in time where the world stands still, I've found it's when you're lying next to the one you love dearly awake in the presence of morning. Basking in the staggered sunshine floating through the slightly opened blinds. That moment where you take in every view that she truly is, her eyelashes flutter with promises of dreams behind them shielding her from the start of the day. Her hair laying softly on the pillow as I run my fingers through it fixing the macramé of curls and knots from a night of rest. Even after years with her still memorizing the curves and juts of her collarbone and breast, keeping my hand still to feel the steady rise and fall while she sleeps. Sometimes that feels like a distant memory, the way she used to hold my heart.
I remember when I had met her, while looking for one of my friends. My view came to a grinding halt when I saw her, standing there watching the game played on a field before us. I didn't know the world could stop for one person while moving along for everyone else, my heart shuddered and spurred when her eyes met mine. How is it that she could be so strangely unique yet so damningly beautiful at the same time. That was the start at least, three years of my life determined by one moment where I met the woman I loved.
I remember the last time I saw her, still as beautiful as the day I first met her. However this time, everything felt so different. She laid there on the hospital bed breathing her last few breaths as our fingers were laced together. The strongest woman I've ever known brought down by something so fatal. But I never knew that her physical pain would make me so emotionally distraught. I didn't think I would lose her.
I couldn't go to her funeral, it hurt me too much. It was also the first day I started drinking again, I didn't know how else to cope with her absence. My heart ached to hold her again or even to hear her voice, I spent most of all days at home not wanting to show my face to the empty world. My work couldn't take how often I was gone. My mother couldn't stand how quiet I became. My friends couldn't understand how empty it had made me.
It was three months before I decided I missed her too much. It was three months before I walked away from my house leaving it unlocked with everything strewn around. It was three months before I walked onto the bridge. It was three months later when I again met the love of my life at the end of my own.
