Standing Here Without You

Standing Here Without You

The pain in my heart still feels like a thorn. It pierces in deeper as I think of him. A moment longer and my heart would bleed out, I don’t want it to. I’ve been numb these past couple of weeks and I want it to stay there. I don’t want any days without you by my side. I say you as we’re actually talking, yet it brings a shadow over me. It’s almost like a lie I tell myself every day or maybe I’ve just been forgotten. Thanksgiving was unbearable, I didn’t know how long I had you. Everyone moved on, our friends and family. Perhaps they forgot about you or maybe they were trying to cheer me up. Everyone drank like they always do; we never drank, I didn’t want to start now. I think maybe they were trying to forget the sorrow of you, but I didn’t want to forget you. Children scamper around, nieces and nephews. I wish we had children so I could have a piece of you with me. Then again, Angel’s kids were quite annoying and noisy, but nevertheless I was once like that too. Thanksgiving just wasn’t the same. To be honest I wished I had never come at all, but I can’t change that now, like I can’t change you from being gone. You were always positive at such gatherings. I often wondered why you stuck with me considering I’m such a stick in the mud. Even our friends have always said so. I left before they all got too drunk, but don’t worry Angel’s mother stood somber for the children’s sake. 

Soon again I came home without you here. Everything you’ve ever owned still was everywhere. I didn’t have the guts to move any of it. Days started to turn into weeks and still your stuff never moved. I cried and wailed most days, but that still wouldn’t have returned to me. I soon got tired, and put most of your stuff into the closet, I couldn’t move most of it, they held too much value. I’m afraid. Afraid if I touch them, I’d lose every memory of you all together. This morning, I had to look up and see what day it was. Almost December. I hadn’t left the house, many neighbors just brought over groceries which are now souring in the fridge. I’ve barely eaten anything, mostly a cracker here and there. Anything else reminds me of your cooking, which causes my throat to close up as I sob. Why did you have to be such a good cook? 

Suddenly a knock on my door causes me to groan, I open it to carolers, they were here early, they sang, the music reminding me of you. I shut the door, my vision blurring, I checked my calendar once more, but I forgot to mark off the days. I search out the window and walk out the door, not believing my eyes, I dress in warm clothes and follow down the street. I stare at the lights; they blur my vision. Christmas is here, your favorite season. The Christmas tree stood at the center of town, yet the memories didn’t bring joy like they used to. I remember when we used to count the months and days until Christmas, it was my favorite. I loved seeing your eyes light up whenever you looked at the decorations. The snow is falling, it’s officially winter. Winter. You almost made it here. I shake away the memories, wishing they’d go away. I didn’t want to cry, I promised myself I wouldn’t, but as the memories followed after each step, I couldn’t help it. Every place I looked I could see you smiling and laughing. We’ve been here for so long. Our memories entwined into every place, and every step. Carefully, I walk back to the house, wanting to escape, but only to come to remember you're gone. I stare outside on this wintery night. Wishing you’d come back and snuggle me tight. I remember, how’d we'd laugh and throw snowballs at each other, like we were kids on a snow day. I’d even slip on the ice, but each time you picked me up and pulled me in close. A chill comes to my dismay as I hang up my coat. I sigh and turn on the light.  I edge up the stairs slowly, waiting for you to take my hand, but when I look back again, the tears start coming. Oh, how I wished you were here. I walked up the stairs quietly and soundly as if someone was sleeping. It was hard to remind myself, you weren’t here. You are in God’s keeping now, which is supposed to be a comfort, but no matter how many times my mother tells me that, you were still eight miles away, stuck in the ground. I close my eyes and walk up the stairs. Our bedroom is cold like it always is, but you're not here to warm me up. I close my eyes, laying down in the cold room, crying myself to sleep. Suddenly, the room fills with sunlight. I ran up to hug you. Holding you close, afraid if I let go, you’d leave me, again. For a second you are there, I hold you and you hold me. For a moment, everything is okay. Together we dance side to side like we used to. 

When I wake up and you’re gone, I cry. I went into our closet and smelled your aroma, then folded your clothes. Memories of you flooded me. Your smile, face and your love for everything. I wish I was more like you. I felt lost without you, yet. I puke though I’ve eaten nothing, not since yesterday morning, I had been too nauseous. I paused at the thought, I ransacked the bathroom, hoping I still had a piece of you. I screamed both in terror and happiness. I sobbed. In my belly, a piece of you and me, squirmed around. The child wouldn’t replace you, but he would remind me of you. I smiled at the thought.