Respecting the Memory of "Us"

When I was younger, the nights were worse than the days.  When I tried to quiet my roiling brain, thoughts of the missing man I loved would poke their snouts into the swirling river of thought commanding my brain.  Every bit of hard-fought calm met an equal measure of pain.

Long into the night,  I would lie on my side in my bed, knees pulled to my chest, arms wrapped around my knees,  unable to breathe except in gasps, tears sliding down my face occasionally, sometimes so late into the night that I would have to call into work sick the next day.

Now it’s the mornings that kill me.  Not even coherent yet, the presence of his absence rings in my mind afresh.  Another small death, another tolling of the bells. The throbbing of the bells, the sobbing of the bells in unhappy Runic rhyme.  The rolling of the bells, the tolling of the bells keeping shrieking time for my broken heart.

I can’t help but know throughought my being that I need not ask for whom these bells toll . . . They toll in respect for our memory.

~Riot.Jane

(apologies to John Donne and Edgar Allen Poe)

Advertisements
About

Middle-aged, life-long Texan with a substantial chip on her shoulder.

Posted in loss, love, relationships
One comment on “Respecting the Memory of "Us"
  1. Lolly.Jane says:

    Love to you. Lots of it. Many virtual hugs until I can give you real ones again.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 24 other followers

Visitors
  • 5,976 Visitors (+ ~18.1k from TJP)
%d bloggers like this: