It’s grey outside, the wind is picking up and the thunder is here.
The lightening is vibrant through the sky, the noise of the thunder amazing. I find myself crying on my balcony in our orange chairs.
My hair is swirling, yes it’s down as you always liked it, in the wind. The sound of the rain, the echo of thunder and the light of the bolts shooting through the sky, and I cry.
Where are you?
Why is it this way?
Why at all?
The ‘why’s’ are what turn us over in our beds at night, make the days long and the evenings restless.
Why am I crying?
I am angry, I am confused but most of all I am alone. You’re not here to watch the sky light up, to smell the rain and hear the thunder. You’re not here.
Just before the storm there was laughter and joy as my teenager celebrated her days achievements. I celebrate those to, but deep down I am hollow. There is a hole that is a cavern of unanswered questions, the ‘why’.
People move on, it has been months for them yet it feels like hours. For them it has been forgotten. They haven’t been touched by the loss of you..
You’re not gone I say, just away, you will be back soon, even though I know you won’t. Why? They ask?
I don’t know, I will never know, we will never know.
That’s the hardest part.