When he walked through the front door and our eyes met.
When our lips first embraced.
When I said “I love you.” And he said it back.
When he slid the ring down my finger.
When he boarded the bus.
When he surprised me at the front door for the last two weeks we’d share together.
When we’d kiss for the last time.
When we’d share our last words and see each others faces over the computer screen.
When I heard his last “I’m so in love with you.”
When the explosives went off.
When he took his last breath.
When I got the call.
When I drove home to find out he wasn’t coming home.
Theses are some of the moments that made up our physical time together. Our unity. Our love.
Talking to him in the darkness of our empty room.
Remembering the things he said and taught me while on earth.
Feeling his love and warmth, in my heart and soul, when the rest of the world felt cold.
Knowing that with each leap and fall, he’s there by my side.
Knowing that I am never alone.
That I will never suffer when I stay in the light of what is the now.
Feeling alive in the beauty all around.
Still telling him every night how in love I am with him.
Finding my purpose and passion through his example of having found his.
Living an utterly beautiful and confusing, yet clear life.
These are some of the moments that make up my life after his passing. Our unity. Our love.
The moments before and after that allow me a glimpse into the eternity. Of our love. Of our lives. Of his legacy.
The moments that make up life. The moments that I cherish and can never give enough thanks in sharing and in having with the best man I’ve ever known.