Some days are easier than others.
But every one is a struggle.
Every.
Single.
One.
People make it easier and harder.
And then there's me making it worse all the time.
Connecting things when I wish I couldn't.
Seeing his name everywhere.
Seeing his personality.
Being constantly reminded of what could have been.
What should have been.
But didn't.
And worse.
What happened instead.
All the time.
Praying every night for these thoughts to go away.
For me to never see his smile again.
But the sight of his face bringing me elation and making me want to cry at the same time.
The suprise of a photograph bringing more than anyone knows.
I don't talk about it.
Because no one wants to hear about it.
They're tired of my voice droning on.
And so am I.
But I can't just walk away from the sound of the repetitious words, thoughts, and feelings.
Because they're coming from me.
I want to "get over it."
But I know that will never be possible.
He will always be a part of me.
And I wouldn't want it any other way.
But that doesn't stop the struggle.
It continues everyday.
I wake up and all day a slideshow is flashing in the background of my brain.
From Rise til Rest pictures flow past my cataracts.
And each picture is of a moment when we were together.
Some special and some frivolous.
But nonetheless, together.
And while I loathe their sight and wish I could burn them all,
I love them.
Every.
Single.
One.