Before I begin the story, I want to add some context. Working for the Medical Examiner's office, grief is a part of my daily life, and there are plenty of stories to be told around death. This one came to me in a dream, of all places, after a case that was particularly difficult for myself and many of my coworkers.
In sharing these stories, my hope is that they may help someone somewhere see the light through the tunnel and know that there is life on the other side of that door. Losing someone we love is never an easy thing to endure. It's gutwrenching and debilitating. You feel as though your heart is ripped into a million pieces and you don't know where to turn or who to turn to. But, you aren't alone. And, while the pain never goes away, you do learn to live with it, and perhaps even turn that pain into something beautiful.
So, without further ado, I give you a story about a man who loved.
He missed her. The way she moved through the heather, the hem of her dress skimming the edge of the tall grass, sunbeams gleaming through her hair, each strand flowing in stride, taking her lead. Her eyes echoed the daylight, outpacing the sun herself. The wind loved her almost as much as he did, beckoning her to dance every time she came near. And dance she did. Among the flowers and the butterflies, she danced until the sun approached the horizon. He would stand in awe, a stillness to her wild ways.
When her dancing was spent, she would return here to his arms, her head nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder, arm across his chest. He loved to kiss her. Her wrist, her hair, her forehead, her lips. The air around her smelled sweetly of magnolias and irises. There they would lay, surrendered to each other's embrace. Sometimes making love under the blanket of stars, entwined together, bringing the universe into their world, if however briefly. Other times they would just stay, frozen in time.
When he awoke, she was gone again. His tears filled their well every morning. His pillow damp. He forced his eyes shut, hoping it would bring her back, even though it would be just for a moment. His agony consumed him, the pain of her departure leaving an empty cavern in his heart, threatening to swallow him whole. Without her, every muscle moving, every breath brought a sword's thrust to the deepest corners of his chest.
But he had to keep moving, he knew that. Staying here would only prolong his suffering. Determined enough to live for her, he made small efforts every day, learning to greet her nightly visits not with sorrow, but with bittersweet gratefulness. As the time passed, someone else entered his life. She would never fill the void, for no one could do that, but she eased the pain and showed him a new path forward, taking his hand to guide him.
Soon, the dreams of her had faded, memories remaining, but no longer filled with the anger that once possessed his every thought. And he emerged from the darkness still caped with her presence. Only now, she became a piece of his armor, strengthening him, drawing her energy into his very soul. Peace had finally come. Not in forgetting, but in accepting her into him, carrying her, letting her live through him.
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