my life is not the same as it was before he died. there is something about each day that feels gritty and i can't wash it off my skin. it has been two years since i have heard his voice. two years since i have known that kind of love. two years since i have had something i could count on for real and forever. ivan was for real. ivan was forever.
this is something else.
like even after all this time sometimes my breath catches - can it be. can these things die?
when people take parts of themselves they take part of you.
the air has grown thin. i find myself reaching above. i find myself clawing the sheets at night.
it is hard for me to make peace with this because i am so furious i can't sleep or breath.
i can't sleep or breath.
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