Time at ten

Time. In the beginning, it felt like it didn't exist. I had no sense of it whatsoever. Nothing meaningful to mark the passing of it. Those usual markers of mealtimes, day, night, none of them existed for me. Even what happened during those first impossible days is forgotten, like those things didn't exist either. Nothing mattered to me except that you were gone, and that was something I just couldn't comprehend, wouldn't accept. It wasn't true.

Gradually time re-emerged, as if through a dense fog. Only now it moved at snail's pace. Minutes took hours to pass, hours days, days weeks. I tolerated time, but it brought me no pleasure, as each second that passed carried me, involuntarily, further away from you. I dug my heels in and resisted that, clinging desperately to the hope that I could reverse time and go back to when you were there, when everything was normal, before this horror began.

Then, at some undefined point, I must have got back onto 'normal' time. I marked your one year anniversary (how could that be?). Then two and three and now, somehow, here we are at ten. Ten FFS. That's a whole decade. Almost a quarter of my life.

Time has moved on but oh, you are so missed. By so many. And you are remembered, talked about, loved, as - for as long as I'm alive at least - you always will be. Thanks for the memories, oh those memories! Thanks for teaching me (in the hardest possible way) that life is there to be lived. Thanks for making me the happy person I am today, loved once again by someone you'd approve of wholeheartedly I'm sure. Thanks for being the amazing, interesting person you were (ten years on and I'm still clearing the loft of your random stuff - didgeridoo anyone?! - you bugger!). Rest in peace my darling Tim, you really were one in a million. Here's to you!