I was more than sure I had processed what happened, with out knowing it.
I was more than sure I was fine, I would force myself to move on.
I mean, that's how we get where we want in life.
Unfortunetly, I was sorely mistaken.
Something occured when I was sleeping, such a realistic dream.
I thought of Matthias, and there was nothing wrong with him, he was loud, and silly, and himself.
..And I was happy.
Naturally, when I awoke yesterday morning, I was bubbly, and happier than ever.
I didn't even notice the empty space beside me, or the side of the bed where the blankets were neatly tucked in and pillows in place.
The person that wasn't at my side, like the many other times I cannot even count.
I was completely oblivious of the cold, lonely atmosphere ,I am now growing to abhor, as I began cooking a breakfast for two.
It's what I had grown to know, and it had become a daily event.
Even as I called up the stairs, awaiting my Dane to run down and give me a peck on the cheek, and a cheerful "Good Morning, Norge!"
I still hadn't realized.
I thought nothing of the lack of response, The man was a heavy sleeper.
It was only when I entered our room, and saw the picture taped on the headboard above the undisturbed side of my bed, that I was able to truely analyze the situation, and the event that forever punctured my heart.
I quickly dropped from the high of happiness and comfort I gained from my sleep and broke down.
That was the most painful slap to the face i've ever recieved.
But, I'm glad to have finally shaken off the chains of my denial, I can only go up from here.
It's not time that heals all wounds, but what you choose to feel during your time of healing.
Matthias carved that wound, and even though i'm not ready to let it seal, I know that's what he would want.
What we assume the deceased would want for us, is what we wish for ourselves. It shapes our lives in the most delicate way, pushing us forward.
In reality, what is our assumption, but a push forward from the deepest part of our heart?
And that, is the wise truth.
I realize now that Denmark wasn't my life, or my world. As, I am still here after he passed away.
He was what I was living for, and he still is.
My heart beats for my fallen Danish man, and it will, forever more.
Living on is the best thing I am able to do to cherish what I have left of him.
Memories.
I'm broken, not wounded.
But, I know soon enough I will be able to say the inverse.
"I am merely wounded, not broken."