A Few Months

It's been some time since the news was told to me. Although I have cried, regretted, kicked myself, part of me still doesn't believe.

I love him, still.

That is the part that lives for certain.

When something catches my attention, I still pause. A slight gasp. Often, I have to find a place to hide, hating to cry in public. The tears happen, unable to stop them. I cry for Steve. For what we could have had. For what we should have had. 

A few months, or years or however long. It's still there.

Tonight, I play his music, I gaze at his photos, I talk to him out loud, I tell my puppy about him. Letting the tears for him course down my face for him. For the loss I feel. For the torment he felt. 

For him.

For me.

For us.

For what might have been.

It's an indulgence, I admit, giving in to the passion, the sorrow, the loss, the love. The everything that was him. 

He may feel or have felt the same. Does it really matter? To my broken heart, it does.

It matters when I hear a song

That he used to sing along

It matters when tears wet my face

Missing someone I can't replace

It matters when I envision his grimace

Memories that time cannot erase

It matters when he is in my dreams

How very real it always seems

It matters when I awaken from sleep

Having relived a connection so deep

It matters when I think of the pain

Of his loved ones who still remain

It matters oh yes it matters in my heart & mind

You will be remembered my love though I am left behind