It must be getting better. Somehow, no matter how I try to hold onto the feeling of his hands, the scent of his body, the muscles under my palms � it is fading. There really are fewer tears until something happens to trigger all the emotions - a piece of music, a dance, a TV show or movie with a plot of shattered dreams and lost love. And sometimes I just let it play�..and let myself cry.
I slept three nights last week without taking a pill. Hurrah. For the first time in over six months. It didn�t last, but it was three days in a row.
Then I saw the new Captain America film. And that�s what I mean by memory. How often did he style himself as �Captain America�? Doing the right thing even when the wrong � or the almost right - would have been better and safer. And it didn�t come to mind right away.
It was just have a movie date, buy tickets, walk in, sit down, talk, order some food and drink, credits roll and movie begins.
It wasn�t until the shield appeared � the perfect round one - that it struck me. This was the name he used for himself when he said he was a good man. The character I used on the front of the custom greeting cards I gave him when I poured out all my love and affection and foreverafters. The Hallmark ornament I left in his stocking at Christmas. The man he pretended to be for three years every time he whispered in my ear.
There was no more sleep that weekend. But I have lots of Ambien.
And lots of vodka.
And devil take the liver that�s left.
I can�t afford to live forever anymore anyway.
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