Visiting a Memory

I often weave through the memory to seek the source of why and how I am here. Sometimes it's a dream and other times a nightmare. I can hear the laughter and see the smiles of my family and my love. Just like in the movies, you can instantly tell when the arc to the story rises and the colors drain from the scene. Melancholy strings play in the background warning of tragedy yet to come.

Blood and tears mark where I have tread and I know I cannot go back ever. I'm cold and the grief overwhelms me into letting go. I don't want to be strong. I don't want to weather the storm. Sobbing replaces the music and I try to ignore the twinge in my heart at the sound. I want to drown the sound. Please make it go away.

Your voice calls out to me, begging me to stay. Your voice is hoarse from use at my bedside and you still plead for me to be with you forever. I try again to shut out your voice, but my walls are cracking and your love is breaking through me. Oh God...I don't want to feel again...it's too soon. Just let me go.

The moment I felt you, agony laced through my body bringing me back. How could I leave? You needed me. You wanted me still. My body bathed in renewed anguish latches on to the strength you offer. It is a tender offering...microscopic in its entirety, but you give it to me and I make it mine. Without you, I have no strength. With me, you are strength invigorated. We faced the darkness and our wounds still fester deep. The deeper the wound, the bigger the scar, and those scars prove the depth of our love.

I still fear the darkness. I still fear the pain. I fear so many things that it paralyzes me. I don't want to be afraid anymore. I don't want to hurt anymore. I want to face the darkness. I want to live each day knowing we survived and are stronger for it.