I have roamed around in the emptiness
for so long, that I have grown accustomed
to the echoes of my own footsteps.

The paintings that adorned the walls of our home
only serve as a reminder of the things
that used to be joyful and beautiful

Oh, I remember every moment that we shared
our love and laughter filled the halls
it is those moments that fuel my desire to continue.

The breakfast table is no longer bathed
in the morning sunshine
only shadows of an empty chair remain.

Grey is my world now, not just from a lack of color
It's the darkness creeping in.
Your love, the light that was in my life, is fading

The picturesque words that my heart spilled for you
now cluttered the rooms and hallways
a testament to our glory days

The only thing that remains are the sunsets
Each evening I sit on the porch swing we shared
and watch as the day has set into its inevitable darkness

The alarm is warning me another day is here
I used to remember everyone I encountered throughout the day,
now I don't even remember driving home.

I leaned over and smelled the paper flower
you made and pretended it still held your scent.
Another beautiful sunset drawing to close
the latest in a long line of meaningless days

I stare out at the blank spotless sky
darkness darkness as far as the eye can see
to the point that I wonder, are my eyes open or not.

Then a spark erupted the silence
that woke me from a restless sleep.
A bright light in the recesses of my mind.
Could this be the hope that I have searched for?

Or is it only another reminder of how much I miss you.

It has been three Tuesdays since I lost you.
I will never forget seeing you, just lying there.
I went to our regular coffee shop, at the regular time.
For the second week in a row I ordered both our drinks.

It has been nine Saturdays since I lost you.
The drugstore called yesterday and said your medicine needed to be picked up.
I picked it up.

It has been seven episodes of that show you like, since I lost you.
Most of the things on the DVR are yours.
I’m just not ready to delete them. It’s the little things.
I don’t think I can just yet.

It is the first Thanksgiving since I lost you.
Dinner at my parents was nice, but no one mentioned you.
I canceled Christmas with your parents.
They said they understood.

It has been twenty-two Sunday walks in the park since I lost you.
More than once, my friends told me it is time to pick up and move on.
What is so important about moving on? I lost someone I love.

It has been dozens of mornings waking up and not seeing you asleep.
You are more than someone I wanted to spend my life with.
You were a comfort, a constant, a habit.

It has been five months since I have heard you tell me you love me,
and the memory is starting to fade. I can’t lose it too.

It has been one hundred seventy-four days, sixteen hours, and twenty-one minutes since I lost you.
To him.

Turbulent waves crashing over my head,
driving me down into the sand,
only a few yards from shore.

Alone, in the cold waters of the Pacific.
Another wave tumbles over me pulling me under, dragging me along the bottom.

Tumbling, I occasionally smash my head looking for which way is up.
Finally, I felt something to push off from
and sped headlong into the rocks.

Blackness enveloped me, then silence.
Nothing.
No more pain. Void. Senses have gone away.
Voiceless screaming, motionless thrashing.

It was then, as if my body exploded.
Electricity surges, ignites every hot nerve.
Uncontrolled convulsions and I retch ocean water,
blinding brightness and I can’t see anything.

Sharply, I gasp for air and flail about,
trying to find my way.
I feel a warmth touch me
“You’re okay. You’re alright.”

The brightness fading, frightening me. Shapes appeared. My entire body ached, and I felt a warmth, flow from between my fingertips.

I recognize faces around me, I smell salt in the air. My heart is pounding in my ear. I taste the sunshine on my lips. I couldn’t feel my fingers only warmth of them being held.

Euphoria and hot pain wash over me. I begin to feel my feet.
The adrenaline in my body subsides.
Foreboding, replaced by content.

I looked into her eyes as she held my hand.
“You asked, what it felt like, to love you.”
A pregnant pause with an
uncomfortable look.

“It feels like that.”