I'm home today, but all this week I was attending a work conference less than 100 miles from the beloved one. And yet even when there are thousands of miles and many years separating us, I have always felt the tug of the invisible bonds that inextricably joined our hearts together so long ago. But this last week was something quite different from what I've felt since that last day he and I were together. I can liken these many years apart to being like one living with chronic heart disease, never quite able to catch a complete breath, never quite able to sprint or climb the stairs with ease, but still living nonetheless. But this last week felt far more like a long painful myocardial infarction; a death in plain sight.
On Tuesday morning, while shaving and looking into the mirror I realized how literally "dead" I looked. My face was ashen and sallow, my eyes dark dull pools of sorrow. The pain of long endured loss was written all over my face. Later that day, even as hundreds were applauding my work as I stood before them on the dias and later as people were shaking my hand expressing admiration and gratitude, I felt more dead inside than ever before. I stood before the pleasing crowd like a corpse whose lips had been pursed into a pleasantly somber smile as the cold embalming fluid coursed through his veins forever setting the features of his countenance into an imitation of life.
Yes, I am home today, and this, my therapy (this blog) continues to postpone the final dying moment of my heart. But this week spent so close together that I could feel his presence and his warmth whenever I closed my eyes surely hastened the coming of the last day when the longed for relief of the parting the veil will bring an end to this long painful journey I've sometimes called love.
I am always remembering... And my greatest fear is that I may not live long enough to forget.
"Fear Eats the Soul"
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