"It's so curious; one can resist tears and 'behave' very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was a bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer… and everything collapses." - Colette
I never knew i could hurt this much - Mentally or physically. But I do. Every fiber in my body hurts, aching for you to touch me. A kiss or a hug, or even just your fingers between mine.
I've spent the past months trying to deal with the grief of losing you. They said it would be hard - losing the love of my life- but I never in my wildest dreams imagined a pain this paralyzing.
Christmas, Birthdays, anniversaries.
Those are the days I thought would be hardest.
- picking a gift from under the lit christmas three.
- Blowing out candles on a birthday cake.
- counting the years we would have spent together, hoping for many more.
Those are the things that seemed impossible without you, the things that should be the hardest to do. But its not.
It's the smallest things that makes the pain stronger. The smallest things that makes my bottom lip shake between my teeth right before the tears spill down my cheeks, waiting for you to wipe them away. Yet I know that you will never do such thing again.
Like when i'm driving in my car and 'happiness' by the fray comes on the radio and I remember everything from the day I first saw you. How we talked for hours before sneaking of to the dirty bathroom to finally have that first kiss.
Or the day i was lying on the couch looking through old photographs and one of you caught my eye. You're sitting in your old chair, your body bent over an old leather journal with your tongue slightly poking through your lips. It was a bad habit you had gotten from your father and you did it every time you were concentrating really hard. One of the many things that made you you, a thing that I loved.
Or when I got an email from our favorite bookstore down the corner from your apartment, saying that I had gotten the job you pursued me to apply for and the first thing I did was to pick up my phone and dial your number. It took me until the call went to voicemail to remember you wouldn't pick up the phone no matter how many times I called you.
But the worst little thing is to walk into a bookstore and see the shelf of books by newly discovered authors, knowing that your biggest dream was to have your own spot on that shelf someday – a dream that we shared and planned to live out together.
It's the smallest things that makes me remember who you really were and who you wanted to be.