365 Days of Music: Day Eighty-Three

One year today, and still it aches, a pressure in my chest that threatens to break my body apart with its force.  The world lost one of the most incredible men ever a year ago today.

They say time heals, but this is a wound that still bleeds, same as it ever was.  The flow has slowed, but still, it refuses to fully heal.  I don’t ever expect it to.

There are so many things I wish he was here for.  So many things I needed to say, so many things I wish we could have talked about.  I do talk to him, sometimes, but I can’t hear his replies, save through my tarot.  I remember his voice;  I feared I might start to forget it, but I haven’t yet.  I remember his laugh and his smile, and the way he whistled like a bird to make me laugh.

I remember his acceptance of me as is, his fiery belief in my potential, and the way he tried to shield me from my mother.  I remember him with grace, with conviction.  I remember the way he viewed my grandmother as the sun, the light around which he orbited.

I remember feeling him disconnect a few weeks before passing.  I remember knowing before my mother said so that he’d left.  I remember the weeping, face buried in the harsh carpet of my apartment as I pounded the earth.

I remember working that same night, remember him visiting, holding me from the other side when I halted, unable to do my patrols.  That warmth… He had promised.  “I’ll always have my arms around you.”

I feel them now, as I cry in the dark.  He’s making the rounds.  I am grateful I bound us so tightly in life with the healing spells.  He’s never too far.  And yet, he’s still millions of miles away.

I miss you, Poppy.  Forever.

Day Eighty-Three:  Slipped Away – Avril Lavigne

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