Your coffin reached the monstrous hole. And a part of me went down into the muddy earth with you and lay down next to you and died with you.
I remembered back to leo’s burial and holding your hand. I was eleven and you were six, your hand soft and small in mine. As the vicar said ‘in sure and certain hope of the resurrection of eternal life’ you turned to me, ‘I don’t want sure and certain hope I want sure and certain Bee.
For a moment amongst the crowd, I saw you. I’ve since found out it’s common for people separated from someone they love to keep seeing that loved one amongst strangers; something to do with recognition units in our brain being too heated and too easily triggered. This cruel trick of the mind lasted only a few moments, but was long enough to feel with physical force how much I needed you.
Usually time alters and affects everything, but when someone you love dies time cannot change that, no amount of time will ever change that, so time stops having any meaning.