Love Works Overtime

Now, each day with Jim is the best day we'll ever have together. Until tomorrow,  the next day, which then will be the best day we ever have together. Until there are are no good days. Each of those best days slides down a gradient on a progressively wounded trajectory. Such that today always will be the best day we'll ever have together.  Each of those todays posit a diminuition of who Jim is and who we are together. Each of these days leave me closer to the loss of my life, closer to widowhood even whilst Jim's body yet lives with a savage vacancy in the head room where his self has been.

Meanwhile, that which is the core (coeur) of Jim erodes and I am left loving a shell shadow and wishing I could make amends for all those petty times we fought and sullied our love.

So I do the best I can now. It grieves me to say I still lack patience, and sometimes even love is insufficient. But love and devotion run deeply such that Jim is my beloved, my most authentic companion, the other who melds with me to make me whole.

I guess I am grateful to have this interim time to ponder our bond. But, in truth, I rage and I am bitter and resentful, and my heart is rent asunder daily in all the humiliating ways in which Jim is brought down so low. But I hold him there, ever as high as I can. I hold Jim. I hold him up. And, Jim holds me up.