Somehow, it always seemed like it would be different. Like how she felt after finishing a book she had been reading forever. Maybe similar to when she bought her first convertible and drove with the top down past sunset and into the night with her hair billowing about her shoulders and face. How she felt after her first time. Different but the same. Knowing that from this moment on, everything would be, not so much different as...

Changed.

Again as the air whipped about her and brought goosebumps all along her naked arms and threw her hair into circles, made her shift ripple in the fast passing air, she thought back. She thought about the first time she met him.

She was sitting in a coffee shop reading David Eddings. He was standing in line waiting to order when she caught him looking at her, saw his smile. And only after five hours of talking and a lot of laughing, did either one of them realize that they hadn't even exchanged names. That night she gave herself to him, and they made love.

When she woke up, she was surrounded by rose petals and sunlight. And only after her cheeks began to ache from smiling did she acknowledge his absence. Slowly rising, she looked around, and for the first time in years, maybe ever, she thought about life and it made her smile. In the shower she heard music she knew wasn't there. Humming, she turned off the water and reached for a towel, but instead, found a ring! She turned around slowly holding it up and then looked into his eyes, at his smile. She screamed or cried, maybe both, and leaped into his arms with her happy answer.

And for fifteen years she never stopped humming.

Until six months ago.

She was coming down from her morning shower, when, halfway down the stairs, she knew something was wrong. Fast as she could, she dashed down the stairs, through the hallway and into the kitchen as he was just hanging up the phone, his hands on the wall above his down-turned head. Fear as tangible as steele fell on both of them. After a day of holding each other, no spoken words, and many tears, a decision was made.

He would stay at home.

There would be no regrets.

No treatments or machines.

And No chemo-therapy

Time held no meaning anymore. She didn't know how long the wind was whipping her shift loosely about her body. But, despite the chill, one could almost understand why she didn't feel the cold. In her state of loss, physical sensation means nothing when your soul is numb. She lifted her arms and let the air cool her skin. And she thought back again.

The morning after the phone call dawned with the familiar feel of his whole body spooning hers, just like it had every morning they knew each other except the first. Strong hands delicately whispered to her skin and hot breathe brushed her neck. The way that they knew each other so well made it possible to surprise one-another constantly, and he made this morning one for the gods.

Slowly, ever so slowly at first, he grew weaker. And as days turned into weeks, then into months, his loss of strength seemed insignificant to the pain. Still, through everything; the pain, the delirium, loss of breathe and control of bodily functions, all of that, everything burned as a candle next to the bonfire of his affection when he looked at her and smiled.

Still, she had to know that it would happen one day.

When she was washing dishes in a rare moment of idle time,while he was taking a nap in their bedroom, she relaxed for a second. She felt the sun on her face. Felt the warmth it brought as it fell on her face like a carress. She closed her eyes and lifted her head to the light. Minutes swam by as she was caught in this rapture of non-feeling. It was almost as if the light brought down a haze that blocked out time and any sensation save that of the warmth. Slowly, she opened her eyes, and saw little things first. She saw the sky through the window, and then noticed that there were white clouds here and there, even some birds far in the distance. Then, as a breeze blew into the window she heard his breathy voice, " I love you".

The doctor said he was in a coma, and would not come out of it. But she already knew that. She also knew that without treatment, his body would give out before the day was through, though the Doctor said it could be as long as a week, she knew. What she didn't understand, was how she could be going through all of this without falling to the floor in tears, or even the need to do so. He wasn't gone yet, she kept saying to herself. after the Doctor left she sat on the couch and bought her knees up to her chin so that she could think. She realized after some time that she was planning on how she was going to say goodbye.

Opening the door to their room, she made her way over to her side of the bed, quietly, as if she feared to wake him up. Then, lying down, she pulled his arm around her and slowly laid her head on the pillow. They had always fit together like matching puzzle peices, even now it was just like every morning since her life started. How she still loved to spoon with him after all this time. In his arms, she fell asleep thinking of his smile.

She awoke and knew right away. But somehow she thought it would be different. She thought it would hit her like a ton of bricks. That she would wail her woes out to the universe that was so cruel to have taken him away from her. Or maybe that she would fall down crieing and maybe slam her fists on the floor until she lay there unmoving but for the shaking of her shoulders as she sobbed. She just got up and let his arm fall where it would as she made her way over to the dresser where she changed into her shift. Then she walked to the door and turned her head to face the bed slowly. He was looking at her. The way he always looked at her. As if she lit a fire behind his eyes that burned everything away until he only saw her. Such love behind them, such strength and tenderness.

She turned back around and, in a trance, walked through the door and down the hall. Their hall. She made her way down the stairs and through the kitchen into the living room. And saw him working on the computer, typing away with a pencil in his teeth until he noticed her. Then he poked his head up and smiled. She blinked and he was gone. So she continued on her way out of the house, towards the convertible he bought for their fifteenth anniversary.

Just six months ago.

It should feel different looking at it, she knew. But it didn't. So she walked over to the cliff in their back yard. They watched sunsets, so many sunsets from here. And then she knew. She knew she would never mourn for him. Because she knew him too well, knew all his secrets. Knew his soul. And she would always have him beside her, how could he die if he was always inside her. That's why it didn't feel different. Now she knew why she couldn't cry. Just a couple of steps now...

...and the air was passing by her so fast, yet...there was no time. Only her memories of her life, him. There was no saddness or regrets, not even loss, just him. Nothing was different. It was still, and would always be, just him and her.

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