I try to heal you from my memories. Reality is tainted by cold detail, especially by the way it ended, but I have things in my mind, or heart, that are far from that. When I try to picture you I see colours and shapes, sometimes just pieces. Dark red hair, shining, with a gentle wave. Green eyes, those long lashes, a pale cheek. The turning curve of waist to hip in a patterned silk dress. Your long fingers reach out to touch the back of my hand across the table... they turn to bone stretched across the hospital bedsheet and I have to pull myself back. I use the first time.
We watched the couples dancing in the gardens, we held hands. My heart raced like a innocent teenager. That night we lay together. I explored your body with my fingertips, looking into your eyes. Dawn rose as we drifted to off to sleep. We are at dinner and you express your views so energetically the wine spills from your glass. You laugh at your seriousness and I know I'm in love. The years pass filled with subtle happiness. We walk in a forest changing with the seasons, we travel to see the world we share. You always held my hand when we walked.
I can't forget the moment of that news, the toll announcing your fall. It was fast, fast enough to halt your life immediately, then slow, slow as it devoured you. I wanted to turn away, I'm so sorry, I wished you dead as it got worse, your eyes turning black, your skin turning grey. I want those images to go, but the others fade with them so I need to remember now. They are all you after all. I will push them together until the gap, the difference is gone and all I see is you, all I remember is us. I will heal you with my memories, heal my memory of you.