My fingers slowly trace the lines of the last letter you wrote to me. Funny how with the simple sensation of the ink raised upon a simple sheet of paper can invoke such memories - feelings. My eyes slowly well with tears – there is too much pain still.
Still holding that precious sheet of tangible memory, I take a deep breath to hold myself together. I try to clear my mind, still my heart, quiet my soul but it does me no good. At unexpected times of the day – it hits with a vengeance. Try as I might I can’t let go.
It has been four years but still you are deep inside me. The flavor of your skin and your scent is still embedded in my memory. Your laughter resonates in my mind – I hear your voice at odd times. There are times where I see you or at least that is what my eyes seem to think.
This letter – this living ink – is all that is left of you. We live on in my mind and I am going crazy….
© cb-june 2011
