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,...