Short story: Missing

 I sat down on the long window seat and opened my journal. The purple and white flowers still perfectly shaped like the day I picked them. Despite their dryness, a slight perfume remained and I couldn't help but remember that day. Looking out the window at the sunset, tears brimmed in my eyes. Maybe it's not a matter of getting over it and moving on. Maybe... it's a matter of healing my heart and becoming free. It's been weeks since you left me. In my lull of lifeless days, you were the color that lit up the world. Now I only see you in photographs, the pictures of me in your arms, in the white dress I thought would be the only one I would ever wear. Now you're in the space people call the city of gold, inviting you with pearly gates. Why did you have to go so soon?

Setting down my journal, I dusted off the table and put your letters in a box. Carefully reading through them, I could almost see your face with each word. Your love and soul radiated with each pen mark like a gift to someone who knew the cracks and lines. I hear a knock at the door, I promised I would call him but, what would he say if he knew I still miss you. That every fingertip dreams of touching you again and feeling your protective arms. What would he say if he knew Im still madly in love with you. I wander to the door and slowly open it. He looks into my eyes and takes my hands. We sit on the couch in silence until he brushes my cheek. "It's okay not to be okay. I know he will always be a part of you. I just hope you can open up to being in my heart." he says. The tears come back, rolling in a stream down my face. Beautiful words from a rugged person. 

Fear, love, sadness, are all a part of life. Experiences that make up who we are and things that change us in ways we don't see outright. Can he really love me through the roughest parts of my soul? The only thing I can do is to give life a chance.