Grief never ends, but it changes. It is a passage, not a place to stay.
Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith, it is the price
of love. – Anonymous

He was the sun, the moon, the stars, . . . and to my great delight, I learned I loved him more than all those come before. Our life was full, our joy complete, and fairer skies seemed up ahead, . . . inviting, . . . beckoning, . . . so tantalisingly close, this life we sought that hovered just beyond our reach. These ageless moments ran sublimely through each day like dew drops glistening in the morning sun, echoing great love stories of antiquity. And in this verdant valley of our love, our hearts grew strong, nourished by the peace we found together after decades of war and heartache in other climes.

But the future we ached to have was not to be. The day his precious, broken heart ran out of time and lay unmoving in his chest, my world went black and I plunged into such darkness I feared I never would return.

I journeyed many, many months in that dark land, delirious with grief, yet solaced by the love we shared. Then came the day when I no longer walked among the dead, but made my way among the living once again. I do not know where I had walked in that bleak desert when I lived behind the veil, but whatever hell I left behind, these two things I know: it was his love that brought me out and I will forever be a living monument to what he built within my heart.

– J.E. Clark / 25 May 2015

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