Another dream?
I unconsciously moved my hand to his side of the bed, eyes closed. Everything in my entire being willed my fingers to brush against his sharp stubble of a newborn beard. To feel the heat of his very breath. His warmth. To feel his his skin. Anything.
I slowly spread my fingers only to find the now hauntingly familiar cold. I slid my hand down only to feel something cold and metal between my fingertips.
I now opened my eyes to see his belongings scattered along this side of the bed. In my hand was his watch. The one I bought him for our one year anniversary. The one I had engraved. The one he wore everyday.
Until the day... he didn't.
I fingered the sharp edge of a picture frame that held a picture of us. Our favorite picture. I wasn't aware he even had the camera in hand when it was taken. I was in our library; book in hand when he ambushed me in a series of kisses and tickled my sides till I cried and pleaded for him to stop. We were both on the couch and my eyes are squeezed shut and I'm laughing and Mathew is looking down at me smiling like a mad man. The glow of the fireplace reflecting in those ocean eyes. That happiness seems so far now.
I close my eyes and I can almost hear his laughter. I can almost smell his cologne. I can almost feel his arms wrapped around me, almost feel his warmth. Realizing no matter how hard I try too, I will fail and then realized I may never laugh like that again.
Opening them again to move onto the next item. A folded flag. The one a Marine Corp Officer gave me. I couldn't look anyone in the eye at the funeral but when he handed me that flag. I looked straight into his dark brown eyes. I didn't speak, and didn't have too. He locked eyes with me and understood all the pain I held in that moment. My ears were still ringing from the shots that had been fired, but that wasn't the reason for my disoriented behavior. I was in the library. I was finishing the last chapter of a book when the doorbell rang. I wasn't expecting visitors, and I certainly wasn't expecting two somber looking Marines on my doorstep. In that moment my heart felt as if it had stopped beating. One handed me a letter. I didn't read it at first, I had only skimmed it, the words Killed In Action boldly printed were the only ones to stand out, and as if the paper itself we're made out of burning metal. I dropped it and said nothing. I merely thanked the men and shut my door. Leaving the letter on the ground, I quietly made my way up the stairs and into the bedroom. Once I entered I went straight for the closet and took out one of his shirts. It smelled like him. Once his scent filled my lungs. Only then did I loose all control...
I did many things that day. Hysteria enveloped me. I screamed at the emptiness surrounding me. Asking and begging whatever gods would answer to give me what was stolen.
Ripping myself out of that horrid memory, I clutched the ring around my neck. His wedding ring, paired with two dogtags laying on my chest.
I turned to face my nightstand and grabbed my cellphone. I opened to click on my voicemail, and opened my saved messages to hear him speak.
A husky voice pierced the silence of the room, "Hey, Babe. Call me when you can. Love you." once it ended I quickly replayed it.
I then turned my body to lay on my back, and just stared at the ceiling fan. Soon my eyes glazed over with tears, and once they started the didn't stop. The emptiness surrounded my once again. This bitter depression had wormed it's way back in to my very being. I curled up grabbing fist fulls of what ever item of his clothing was nearest and felt completely hopeless. He was taken from me. It felt as if someone had amputated a part of me. One that was needed for my survival. It felt as if I was dying, and I wanted to die. I wanted to end this. I wanted to see him, to have him gold me again. Slowly and very quietly, the words one step echoes in my head once more.
