Two Years

 


Two Years


Two years.  Believe it or not, I have no problem believing that you are gone.  Not too much trouble with the fact that my bed is still empty or when I hear a sound in the kitchen, and it isn’t you making a vodka cranberry, but rather the dog.  No big deal. And when you come to mind, a song, a movie or just because, I am more inclined these days to think of happy times and smile.  But seriously, two fucking years?

 

When I try to wrap my tiny brain around the fact that it’s been two years I can only think of one reason.  And that is that I still love you as much as I did the day we were married.  As much as the days that each of our children were born.  As much as the day that you died.  And all of the days in between.  

 

It is not a love I take lightly, as I may have from time to time before you left us. (Actually, I know I did, I’m sorry).  Honestly, loving ones wife after she dies is not anything I gave any thought to before it happened. Why would I? But here we are.  And I’ve realized that it is not only a love that hasn’t diminished, it is a love that has grown.  

 

It is not the same kind of love, I know that, but it is love nevertheless.  I can’t quite put my finger on it but I don’t need to.  All I need to know is that it is there.  It is real. And it counts.

 

So, two years.  Have I mentioned how I can’t believe it’s already been two years?  Next time I blink it’ll be five years.  Then ten.  In time I may meet someone, I may fall in love with them and I may even want to spend the rest of my life with them.  And I my love for them will be true and complete.  

 

Except for that one small part of me that will always love you, Victoria.  And that’s okay.  No matter how many years go by, or how fast they pass, that’s how it should be.  And that’s how it will be.  I love you. 

 

 

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