july 30 2005

the journey seemed endless, and the anticipation was building on top of me like a ton of bricks. the flashbacks were terribly overwhelming, i almost could no longer bear it, but when i closed my eyes they only became more vivid. my heart was telling me this would be the little piece of closure, what i need to move on with attempting to live my life "normally."
when i arrived only to see acres and acres of headstones with people's loved ones underneath, i knew this was not where you would want to remain forever. i searched for what seemed like hours for you, going off of plot numbers. to think of you as some numbered hole in the ground tore me apart inside. i found you, well i think that i did. you are still a number in the ground right now with nothing around you, not even a single flower. i cannot say i am surprised, even though i would have liked to think they would attempt to keep your "area" as full of life as you were.
i left you our flower. i was clearly the first to have left anything in the obscurely placed container.
i sat and talked for a bit, realizing that what i thought would be my little piece of closure only left me longing to hear the sound of your voice talking back to me.
a sunflower from your marisol.