Grief has its stages

It's almost as if there is a gaping hole in my existence. And I don't wish it away because that would mean I didn't experience a love like you. I walked that trail that was once lucky enough to cradle the weight of you. The trees were veiled in Spring exuberance and I didn't see it the way I used to. The symphony of the birds that once flew over your essence was silenced. Weak at the knees, yet inching toward ending the walk as soon as I could. Part of me thinks I went looking for you. The other half knew there was nothing to find and what has been done simply is. I think you left that bit of grace for me. To know it couldn't have been any other way and that's okay too. I found myself looking back most of that walk. I'm in a never-ending state of nostalgia since you left. I'll never be the same since I loved you. I chose to love you from the beginning. And in me signing up for this beginning, I must also remain present for the ending. As cataclysmic and as devastating as it may be, the pain shall mirror the boundlessness of this love. What I would give to hold your hand again. No matter how cool to the touch you may be. What I would give to hear your voice again. No matter how shallow the breath. What I would give to get just another moment

With you.