He sat down in his quiet flat. Desperately wanting to scream but holding it back.
“How could this happen?” He thought to himself as tears welled up in the back of his eyes. “No don’t cry, you are stronger than this.” After his thoughts were quieted and he calmed himself, he sat up and went to make some coffee. As he went into a kitchen out of the corner of his eye he spots a picture frame. Gently, he took the photo and placed it face down to obscure the photo. He waited and waited for the coffee to brew, just quietly listened to the drops of coffee until it finished. When it finally finished he took the pot, poured himself a cup and sat down at the table.
Before him was the photo overturned as he mustered his strength not to turn it over. His strength faded and he gave into the pressures to look at the photo.
“Oh, how I’ll miss you.” He thought as he looked at the photo. For a moment all he thought about was all of the things he never said, never did and never would be able to do. Pain swelled up inside him and grew to tears as he continued to think of all the missed opportunities. He never cried this much in his life, he always prevented himself from doing so.
“Its the silence. Its the void. Its the lack of her voice.” He pondered to himself as picking up a tissue to clean himself up. “I wonder if I’ll ever love again?”
Silence once again took over the setting and time seemed to freeze as he just sat and drank his coffee. Emptiness filled all the places she once was.
“All the good times we had. Like the time we went on a hike out in the woods and just talked for what seemed like days. Or the time we stood next to each other in the freezing rain and not having a care in the world.” He thought as continuing to fill his mind with memories, “Or the time I met your parents and how terrified I was but you beside me calmed my nerves. Or the time we spent the night making dinner together and you making fun of me for how little I knew how to cook.”
“It was the best of times, you and I. I’d give anything to go back and live them again.” He said breaking the silence that enveloped the room.
“I know I wasn’t best. I wasn’t the best boyfriend, I wasn’t the best husband, I wasn’t the best man. But if you look down on me now from above: I love you, more than you’ll ever know. I know I didn’t say it enough but I hope in our lives I’ve demonstrated it enough. I love you, I love you, I love you. I’ll miss you.” He said out loud as the room quickly returned to silence.
Silence of no one having a conversation, silence of no one telling each other how much they love each other, silence of no one expressing how much they love the others cooking. The sound of silence is a cacophony to those who’ve lost. Words not said, love not shown, actions not done. In this silence you build your own reality, a reality of they had no idea of how much you loved them and you didn’t do anything right for them. In all reality you did your best just being their when times got rough, when the road grew thin and the obstacles seemed insurmountable. It isn’t about what you didn’t say, it is about what you did say: the kind words of support and patience, the words of humor to lighten the mood and pain and the lack of words as you listened to their problems. You were there and they know that.