Two years ...

To the readers:  I wrote this on the two year anniversary date.  For the longest while, I have held on to it as something between two lovers safe in my journal.  However, I have always been honest with my blog if only to bring some sense of normalcy to others who grieve.

Two years.  Time stands still and yet moves forward.  Wedding bells and newborn cries are heard and bills keep marking the passing of yet another month; life events and obligations slipping through the hour glass, marking time.   Another year gone by where two years is no time at all.    

Two years.  Time stands still and yet moves forward.  Fitful nights spent between reality and dream, two years is an eternity.  The unleashed mind, no longer limited by the boundaries of logic, slips back to a time when the weight of his body was comforting only to wake up and grieve him all over again.  Even in dreams he is not in focus, it is more a sense that he is there.  Two years is an eternity.  The mind does not always limit playing its tricks in sleep.  In those routine moments, where the mind goes into autopilot while driving home from work,  borrowing from our past I am still eager to share the day's events with him;  just for a split second I forget that he won't be there waiting or that I won't see his car at the familiar intersection only to be disappointed all over again.  Two years is already a lifetime.

Unlike the assumption that time heals and that with every passing hour, month and year Bill would be washed from my conscious thought, he continues to be in my every thought.  I talk to him always, sometimes through a whispered word, the warm gentle smile that lingers on my lips or with the furrowing of my brow when I ask, "Why or what would you have me do?"   He does not answer but he is felt.  I can almost see his twitching moustache or the gentle nodding of his head as he can't believe I did that. Memories brought to life will never be enough.

Two years without Bill.  Two worlds.  I move forward, recovering from the initial shock.  I stand still enveloped by the memories of us.  Despite my desperate attempts to remember, the details of these memories are fading.  When the pain of loss is the greatest I find myself wondering if Bill was really mine.

Two years.  Time stands still and yet moves forward.  For others, my tears continue to be a source of discomfort.  I seek the shelter of our new relationship, in our memories, reminders of being loved.

Today my love, I miss you like the first time I realized that this is until we next meet again.