Pushing uphill

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Subduing the lump in my throat 

Is like pushing a boulder uphill-

The hardest part is starting,

Overcoming of the inertia of grief. 

 

And I had to start at the end, 

The last moment I looked into your eyes

And your knees buckled

And you, along with everything we knew of eachother, collapsed. 

 

It replays when I think of you, in a nauseating loop

Until the excruciating sting becomes an ache

That I can push through, slowly, 

Rewinding the clock 

 

Past the unfacable decision, 

Sleepless night, 

Desperate phone call

My words, "Don't worry. He'll be okay."

 

Here, at the echo of my foolishness, I stop. 

The boulder I'd been pushing rolls back on me, mocking my hope

Until I find the strength to see the beauty of its trueness, 

Rather than the tragedy of its wrongness. 

 

But when I do, the lump, the boulder?

It gets lighter. 

 

As I rewind past the wind in our hair,

And your solidness, your warmth in winter, 

Past the open field where we breathed eachother into a single existence

Past dream days that floated by effortlessly 

 

Trough the dulling ache of your absence 

To where it all began

The first moment I looked into your eyes

And my knees buckled.

 

Here, at the top of the hill, looking down on all that was you, was us?

Here we will stay. 

 

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