Day 8: Day Time

I cannot remember much from this day, all I recall is the finality of it all. The calm in our words, when the fight stops and the scream turns into a yawn. I remember eating this horrid pizza in front of him, our last meal together. I also remember the strangeness as we walked, for a year, my hands were always clasped with his when we walked. He was like a stranger I still recognize and loved despite the betrayal, lies and the abandonment. It hurts you see, even in the death, I was still wide-eyed, I still held a candle lit for this man but he was already gone. There was finality in the silence, finality in the calm. My stomach hurt, my body hot and cold. I mourned right there, the loss of warmth, the loss of familiarity and ritual. The loss of what I thought was a remarkable and irrevocable union. I mourned and yet had not shed a single tear. My body mourned.


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