At eight years post-loss, I am somewhere different than ever before,

and yet,

not quite where I would like to be. 

 

I am well past the soul-crushing, hopeless feelings of everyday existence. 

And still, 

there are days where my heart feels like it has stopped beating,

or like there is a large boulder sitting on it,

temporarily. 

 

 

At eight years, 

life moves forward 

and life looks back. 

 

Joy is abundant, 

and sadness 

sits dormant. 

Still. 

 

I wonder where my dead husband is,

at eight years,

other than dead. 

How does his soul feel currently?

Does he continue to grow and change,

in a cell-energy-science kind of way?

Or is he just floating across the universe,

unaware and free and unburdened?

I dont know.

I may never know. 

 

I miss learning things with him.

I hope he still learns things 

on his own,

in the soul world. 

Life teaches me new things

every day. 

I still havent quite learned

though,

how to live 

without him. 

How to stop 

the bleeding

that comes from

the intense 

missing. 

Even If I learned how,

Im not sure 

that I would stop it.

Im not sure I would ever 

want to stop missing him. 

 

Time moves forward,

life marches on,

and the heart

remembers when. 

 

I am in between phases

of grief,

of life,

and maybe I am meant to stay here,

because losing someone

to death,

leaves life sad and joyous,

painful and ecstatic,

funny and tragic,

and everything

In Between.