Two Years

And now it has been three years. Yes. I still love him. But I think it’s more as a figment… a bit of ether I can hardly see. Two of the white roses he sent me hang withered and dried in my office. A gorgeous bunch of fresh white roses arrived this morning. No. Not from the Australian. I knew they weren’t from him. But from a friend who sent them to show love and support on this day. I won’t lie. As they were set on my desk I started shaking. The mere memory of him causes me to tremble still.

Creative Noodling

It just hit me. Right this moment, two years ago, the Australian was telling me he loved me. After meeting me only just that morning and spending a magical day together.

“I didn’t know it could be like this,” he said as we lay naked discovering each other’s bodies. “How is it I feel this way? How can I love you after less than a day?”

Yes. I can still play back his words in my head. But I went all day not realizing it was my silent anniversary. The day I will forever remember as the day I fell. The day that I wouldn’t ever undo. The day the I lost my jadedness. The day that led to the shattering of my heart. The day.

I might have missed it if someone hadn’t reminded me that Valentine’s Day was fast approaching. Funny thing is, a reader friend asked me…

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5 thoughts on “Two Years

  1. My friend, there are times our memories hold us over the chasm. I know you will be fine, I know you will take all your memories and build them into something wonderful. It is the way many of us are designed, to love strong and love always, no matter what.

Talk to me. Please.

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