To me this is about the first months of the long road, when her loss is fresh and the crushing grief of her death is consuming you, as your shattered shell sits alone in a silent room, unmoving, the hours passing unnoticed. The prospect of facing the long years ahead, empty and alone, is terrifying. The hollow inside where her soul was torn away from you is a burning agony. You ache to follow her into the unknown, held to the world only by a sense of obligation to the family and friends who have already endured too much loss.
Romantic? No. This is the face of grief, and the cost mortals pay for love. May it be many, many years before your bill comes due.
To me this is about the first months of the long road, when her loss is fresh and the crushing grief of her death is consuming you, as your shattered shell sits alone in a silent room, unmoving, the hours passing unnoticed. The prospect of facing the long years ahead, empty and alone, is terrifying. The hollow inside where her soul was torn away from you is a burning agony. You ache to follow her into the unknown, held to the world only by a sense of obligation to the family and friends who have already endured too much loss.
Romantic? No. This is the face of grief, and the cost mortals pay for love. May it be many, many years before your bill comes due.