Scattered to the Wind

I have been doing a lot of self reflection lately.  When you spouse dies one cannot help but do so I would suspect.  I have been thinking about now...and then.  Like has my life changed in the last few months.  It truly has.  I have been sheltering myself from this new reality by not thinking about the future.  The future is a scornful bitch at the moment.  Each reflection I have needs to be re-assessed with my emotional amputation.  It is interesting though, when you think about it, how deep the loss of a spouse is inside of the imagination.  It leaves no corner of my consciousnesses unrepetant to that sacred image of my wife.  God how I miss her.  I am truly in agony, but it is the kind of agony that has no cure and no remedial cause. Every moment I sit here and reflect into what She and I would be doing, what would She say, how would She react. Ahhhhh!  God damn these questions because if I answer myself it does not seem as though the answer is real.  Only Her, only Her.  She is my god now and peace be with Her name.  There is no idol of this world that can carry the magnificence of Her existence unto me, there is no totem I can build to Her....for Her.  She is there in my mind, imbued with 15 years of existence with her.  She is within me and all around everything I do but god damn it I cannot talk to Her, I can not see Her, I cannot hear Her voice, Her laugh, Her everything.  The magnitude of my loss is unbearable but for the beauty of life itself.  Life, I am ever reminded, is a gift to be enjoyed just for the fact itself.  I remember when my father was sick with cancer, when he was told his last day is foreseeable, oh how he wrenched with the agony of the knowledge, for life is fit to be loved even if it is miserable some times, it is life, it is ongoing, it can change.  But why is it that it can end?  Fuck endings.  I hate them.  People can tell me that I will see my Dearest--my Love--again and I relish their ignorance.  I can see hearts break, literally, when I say I have seen nothing.  She has not visited me, given me a sign. I do, I swear I do, look for these signs.  God  how I would love an interface with Her.  I peer into the night studying the sounds as if to read them for a sign from Her, wishing, hoping, what is otherwise called praying; but to no avail.  She was torn from me, from my heart, in an instant.  I was told She had died before I knew that was even the question.  A slap!  Ugh!!  That moment is not--too a knot, in my stomach--something to be recollected without feeling it.  Oh well, I thank you internet for listening to me, even if no one else does.  Maybe She is on the internet--her soul--I can hope, but I doubt it....my life with Her was scattered to the wind.

~the saddest man on earth