The Love That Remains

How's that for a powerful word?

There isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel the now-common ache and pull for Alex; for his physical presence and for his emotional support. Whenever I'm having a particularly tough moment, my mind always goes to him first: Alex would have known what to say- he would have known how to fix it or make me smile again.

Over the past year I have experienced so many different emotions. I have experienced more heartbreak than I thought possible and more ups and downs than the twistiest roller-coaster. Lately I have been feeling the familiar sense of dread beginning to creep over me as August approaches. August 7th was that last time that I saw Alex, the day I left Bermuda. And August 17th will mark the anniversary of his death, just 16 days before he was supposed to come home.

I can still remember exactly how I felt the night we received the news, and how the next two weeks unfolded around me. However shocked and numb I now realize I was, was outweighed by the complete grief that took over my body. Now that all of the "first year marks" are coming up, I am beginning to feel the exact same way I did last year. It's almost as if all of the progress I feel I've made has now washed away, or at least started to fade. I find myself wanting to retreat back into myself and go into hiding for a month or so.

Even though I knew that it would happen anyway, I've been trying to build up some sort of defense against all of the pain I am going to have to face in this dreaded summer month. I'm quickly coming to realize that it's going to hurt no matter what I do- I am however armed with the knowledge that if I can make it through these past eleven months, I can make it through anything.