Missing

My love,

It's morning my love, and as I lay in the cool dark silence of my room I think of you. Still a habit, I reach for you in the night. Loving how you reached back, I wanted to be sure you knew how I searched for you, even in my sleep. Hearing your sigh in my ear and the wrinkle of the sheets as you rolled close once again would bring the slightest grin to my face. The heat of your breath on my neck was like feeling a spring sun when my hair was tied up while working in the garden. I loved the warmth and familarity of the moment and the scent of you that whispered by, while you slowly breathed in the air between us.

The first looks of the morning were the purest and most joyful. To be able to wake next to you everyday was the greatest gift. To speak my first words every morning to you helped me to begin the day with peace and happiness. The comfort of the simple things were never missed.

I believed they'd last forever. I believed they were what would sustain us. They'd get us through everything and anything. I never doubted they'd be enough. Our love was strong and resilient. Our passion eclipsed even the brightest light...until it didn't.

The sudden and stabbing anguish of loss stole all the light. Darkness crept through every fiber of my being. There were places that were so inky and slick that I could only fall into their depths and struggle to find a handhold to pull myself free before I drowned. When I'd rise again I felt the filth of depression and the depths of despair. I couldn't wash myself clean of it all no matter how I scrubbed. My skin raw and red I still slipped to the floor of the shower, looking for some way to feel free of this persistent gray world I'd found myself in.

I miss you every day, and sometimes do not know why you don't hear me calling. How can you not hear my cries for help? I need you to reach for me and draw me to you so I can find my breath and feet again. If I but had them, I know I'd be able to find you.

I miss you forever...