Part of the problem with grief and sudden death is that there is little to no closure. Countless people have reminded me that the chapter that was Jon and Maria is now over, and that I have new chapters to live and experience. But I am still on the last paragraph.

I have not moved on to that final punctuation mark and turned the page. I don’t want to. I haven’t quite gotten past the “THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING TO ME” part, and I’m still there, on my knees, breathing air into his blue body and willing it to live.

And I am too afraid to let that go. I don’t want to say that it’s over. That our life together is finished. I search for reasons to believe that somehow it goes on, and that we’re still together in what could be the worst long-distance relationship ever. It’s not enough that I have things to live for, things to focus on. But I cannot live completely. I have to be stuck in this moment where he was ripped right out of my world without even a goodbye.

There is no closure, and I’m left to make one up on my own.

Sometimes, I feel like I’ve fallen asleep during a movie, and I’ve woken up to find it over without me even realizing it. All the patrons are gone and I’m alone. I’ve missed the ending. I’ve missed the climax to something I wanted so desparately to experience. I’m too late. The show is over.

Passing through unconscious states.
When i awoke i was on the highway.

With your hand on my shoulders, a meaningless movement… a moviescript ending,
And the patrons are leaving, leaving.

*(I forgot to add that this is a lyric from the song “A Movie Script Ending” by Death Cab for Cutie. It was always one of my favorites, and seeing it live, with my husband in 2006 was awesome. They are definitely a band worth checking out.)