10 months
43 and a half weeks
305 days
7,320 hours
439,200 minutes
26,352,000 seconds

I've been sleeping in your shirts for 10 months
I've spent 43 and a half weeks missing your touch
I've visited your grave 305 days straight
I've played your last voicemail 7,320 times
I've survived 439,200 minutes without you
And I can remember all 26,352,000 seconds since you left

I used to believe in God.
I used to go to church and say the prayers.
I used to sing the hymns and read the stories.
I used to have faith in a higher power.
I used to believe I would go to Heaven.
You never understood.

You never liked church and you thought prayer was useless.
You rolled your eyes at the hymns and laughed at the stories.
You put your faith in yourself, in your family and in me.
You said Heaven was on earth and right by your side.
I never understood.

I used to believe in God before you died.
Church held no answers and the prayers didn’t work.
The hymns couldn’t heal me and the stories annoyed me.
My higher power took my faith and threw it in my face.
But worst of all, worse than anything else, I knew Heaven was a lie.
Because the real Heaven was on earth, and you were torn from my side.

So much death and so much life,
I’m surrounded by a bright white light.
There’s shouting and beeping and someone is crying.
I can’t move or speak but I can’t stop trying.
My arm is throbbing and my leg- is it burning?
I almost sit up and now the world is turning.
“Don’t move!” they say and push me on the bed.
I don’t know why, but I’m now filled with dread.
I call out your name over and over,
With no response I feel myself growing colder.
I ask the stranger with a hand on my chest,
“Please, where is he?”  but he just shakes his head.
He refuses to answer and I refuse to let it go.
I’m kicking and screaming that I just have to know.
The beeping gets louder and the light starts to dim.
I try to tell the stranger, “Please go save him.”
They say our hearts stopped beating but only mine was revived.
That’s the thing about hospitals- so much death and so much life.

“You and me for infinity”
That was the plan
That’s what you said
You made me a promise
Then you just left

It’s not your fault
I’d never think to blame you
It was only an accident
It just didn’t claim two

I still see the lights
And I still hear the scream
I still pray at night
That it was only a dream

Maybe God isn’t listening
Or he simply doesn’t care
It really doesn’t matter
He can’t stop all the stares

“There she goes
That girl who survived”
Everyone blames me
Just for being alive

When their voices get too loud
I close my eyes and remember
That last thing you told me
That last moment together

“You and me for infinity”
That was the plan
That’s what you said
You made me a promise
Then it all turned red

I've tried writing about the stars.
I wanted to write about their glow, or their shine, or their infinite numbers or maybe even the way they can turn a simple first date into the most romantic night of your life, like that time we laid in the back of your truck and fell asleep looking for Hercules just because I mentioned I liked one song from that Disney movie and you were trying to impress me.

I've tried writing about my family.
I wanted to write about my sister's wedding and how happy she was while she was getting ready, and how wide her smile got when I told her I would be the maid of honor after all and how excited she looked as she walked down the aisle, like that time at your sister's wedding and she got so anxious to say "I do" she started jumping at the altar and everybody laughed and told you, "you're next" and you just looked over at me and said you couldn't wait.

I've tried writing about God.
I wanted to write that I was healed and that I'm going to church again and my faith is completely restored but then I get to the point where I'm supposed to forgive him and welcome him back into my heart and I don't know if I can because I'm not sure he's real anymore because what kind of higher power creates a world where you die but I live and there's nothing to fill the gaps in my soul except the memories that hit me all too often but not nearly often enough?

I've tried writing about everything except you.
But it's just not working.