It kept being a shock every time I remembered it, a fresh slap: he was gone. Every new event - everything I did for the rest of my life - would only separate us more and more. Days he was no longer a part of, an ever-growing distance between us. Every single day, for the rest of my life, he would only be further away. |
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Life with you was lovely - and when I say lovely, I mean doves and lilies, and velvet, and that soft pink 'v' in the middle, and the way your tongue curved up to the long, lingering "I". Our life together was alliterative, and when I think of all the little things which will die, now that we cannot share them, I feel as if we were dead too. |