I find that grief has now pushed me into the dank bowels of a dark cave. I am alone, cold and afraid. The familiar to me now seems strange and the once comforting details of my life seem insignificant. I know longer waste the days dreaming of the future because it has become overwhelming. The past is a safe place to dwell now; here I can remember his words, his eyes, his touch. My heart constantly aches to be with him and refuses to let me move forward for fear of forgetting. It has become so full to capacity with memories and regrets that it has lost the ability to let love move in or out and it just remains a locked tomb of precious preservation. My body somehow still manages to move me through the days but my heart refuses staying behind feeding my mind tempting visions of what was. I feel like I must decide weather to move forward with my body, or stay behind and watch the dust settle on my heart.