a.m. 

Sitting here in the stillness of a Mayberry morning, thinking of people I once loved,  who have passed on. I rarely allow myself to dwell on remembrances of them. I’ve never been one for mourning. Until Bennie died. It’s been fourteen months,  ten days,  since he left. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same. 

I can barely remember a day, since he died, that wasn’t filled with tears. My face has changed because of it. I didn’t know that could even happen. Till now. The shrink said I  mourn him because I have a type of Stockholm Syndrome. I can see why he’d think that, but I’m not sure it’s true. When you spend most of your life with someone, no matter how bad it was, I think it’s natural to miss them. Although, I can’t define what it is that I miss. It’s nice not to feel afraid, or to have to pretend and cover so much. It’s nice not splitting time between love and hate, as well. It’s strange to look at pictures he took of me in the months before he died and see the changes in my face. My eyes are always puffy and I don’t quite look like myself. He definitely left his mark. 

There’s something about this morning that feels beautifully somber. Grey skies weigh heavy, in many different ways, as this day begins. Their weight feels grounding and reassuring, somehow. Even the birds are quiet. I suppose everything takes time to reflect, now and then, especially on a morning such as this. 

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