Last night I found a pamphlet for my loved one's funeral service.I stared at it for quite a long time trying to understand the hard cutting feeling between my ribs.
It's been nearly six years, but the picture on the front, the one of her in good health, cut like a knife. Her careless smile and absurdness as she posed with a gourmet lobster. The one we dreamt of having when we were two starving kids, living in the slums outside New York proper. Before kids, and the bitter cold of those northern lake winds.
Water downed Gin martini's in paper cups and passionate fights with one another because we truly loved each other. We were in our prime, yet all we did was worry about the future. Wasted youth.
I thought time helped heal my broken heart, yet here I am again. A useless rag, damp with salt water and fear.
Love come away with me. I'm so very tired and feel my soul weakening each day. I'm done making memories. It's time to retire.
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