A decade feels heavy.

But not heavy like an impact, a crash, a totality.

Heavy like accumulation. Like snowfall.

Gradual and slow.

Each flake a moment I’ve lived without you. 

A memory that was supposed to be. 

Now frozen in time. Now a blizzard with no end.

I’m covered by the weight of all that never was.

Surrounded by you and the stinging absence of you. 

So cold I might as well be numb. 

(Maybe, I’m just numb.)

10 years feels endless. 

Like a spring that won’t break. 

And flowers that won’t bloom. 

No irises or tulips. No jonquils daring to poke through.

Grief is a winter I was never prepared for. 

Because I spent my life basking in the sunbeam of your love.