Love

This is something we feel, yet it is completely intangible. It is a bond that once established remains forever. When that with which we share the bond is gone it’s almost as though an appendage has been severed, or a critical food source has stopped. We feel the hunger for the sustenance, yet we feel no real pain. What we feel is the absence of what once was. We don’t like this emptiness. We cry over it, we bemoan its end. We bargain, pray for and hope against all we have or know to have it again but we know we will not. Somehow when that reality eventually settles in our minds the cruelty of the loss becomes even sharper and we have to fill the void with memories. It helps to write or talk about that which we have lost. It helps to remember specific things we did or said or that happened. We have to remember the value of what was through what we shared or else we’ll fall into an abyss of loss. We have to be tossed a bit on the waves of grief, crying our hearts out for sadness over what we loved. Is it that we continue on, leaving the beloved behind, or is the beloved moving on, leaving us behind? Doesn’t matter. The simple fact is that love which existed only in and of and for itself, specifically between ourselves is no longer living and breathing in our dimensional world.

We have to remember. Before and after we say good-bye. And be grateful for that which we did have, for however short a time.

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