I dreamed about you. You were laughing and having so much fun. The jokes were as bad as ever. The laughter just as loud. It was so normal to be with you again. It was so vivid and real.
And then it was morning. It took me a few minutes to decide what was dreaming and what was reality. I looked around to find you and be assured that you were real. I just wanted to be held and loved.
You weren’t there. I only had your pictures and our memories. Since that night, it’s like losing you all over again. The sorrow has been so vivid and fresh. I can’t seem to move past the memories, past the yearning of my heart. I search for your face in the crowds. I look for you in the empty rooms of our home. I beg the phone to ring so I can hear your voice.
But then, I remember that you’re dead and buried. For almost eight years, I’ve lived without your smile, without your laughter, without you. I won’t find you in the crowds and your voice is forever silent. I’ve learned to laugh again. I’ve learned what it means to live life fully without your love and assurances. But sometimes its just too hard. I miss you.
I dreamed about you.
Beautifully written; it really hit home. My first anniversary as a widow is coming up – and i have that same dream, often.