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I hate crying in movies. There is that scene in the movie Titanic …right at the end where Rose as an old lady either dies or goes to sleep at the end and she’s taken back to the Titanic and she walks up the stairs to meet Jack. Makes me cry every time because I can relate to that. I hope that if I die, that my babe will meet me. His beautiful timeless self smiling at me again. I pray to God that he will be there. Fixed. Happy. No demons. No struggling. I hope so.
I remember the nights when you could make me laugh so hard I would cry. I remember the nights when you would rouse from your sleep only to reach out to me, put your arms around me and curl your feet up into mine. I would wish that you would always be that way with me. That no matter what, we would always be like that. In love. I would talk to you when you snored soundly, telling you all my fears, and how much I loved you. I would watch you in the low light of our bedside lamp, drink in all your details. The high cheekbones, full lips and the way your hair would turn into a mess. I would especially love it when you’d talk yourself to sleep after you’d made love to me, arms behind your head in this satisfied abandoned way. I would smile and shake my head with fondness. And I’d nestle into you, head over your heart, listening, your hand in mine.
Where did you go?
What happened in your heart babe?
God I miss those nights.