Some Days

Some days I let myself feel it all. All the sadness and pain and devastation of losing you. It is always there beneath the surface, and sometimes it is triggered by a memory or a word or a photo or a song or a poem. And in those moments I feel as though I will fall apart—in fact I know I will. So I stifle my thoughts, swallow the lump in my throat, take a few deep breaths, and march on. I am too busy to fall apart. I do not have the strength to fall apart. But it feels a slight to you to never allow your absence to be fully felt. And so some days I let myself feel it all.