Missing

Missing


My fingers blurred on the keyboard. It was a beautiful moment; the words pouring out of me, flowing, cleansing. I felt a distant pressure on my thigh, but ignored it, too caught up in the moment. Images whizzed through my head, a distillation of a lifetime. A feather touch swept across my shoulders. But I focused on the screen before me.

I leaned back, content with a job well done. Absently I dropped my hand to the head in my lap. But she wasn’t there. I turned, panicking, but my heart was gone as well. Events came crashing home as the pain I’d kept at bay for a year plummeted into the void that was my heart.

I sat there, chin on my chest, weeping. How long I huddled in misery I’ll never know. I was brought back from the brink by a gentle hand squeezing my shoulder. Helped to reclaim my sanity with a wet nose pressed just so. Even the tragic memories of those I’ve loved and lost proved that dear departed friends were with me in my moment of triumph and that life is worth living.