two years two years two years

two years ago you fell. right. out. of. the. sky.

and i didn't really believe it at first, i kind of hate myself when i think about what has happened. and how things happened and the way it all went. i remember him putting his black t shirt on and it didn't matter that he wore black every day because that day it was on purpose for a reason that mattered. he hid inside his bed and couldn't even cry i heard his screams, shrieks, like it was being pulled out of him, his heart, out from his throat and through his mouth. like there was nothing i could do and i knew there wasn't. i couldn't touch him. i was afraid to get too close. afraid to be the thing that made it worse.

i sat on our couch and watched cnn for hours, mesmerized by the sounds and images, it felt so false. so. unreal. sometimes i think, what if you hadn't died, would i still be with him?

would we be getting married? would we be in thailand? following his dream?

you helped me realize myself more than almost anyone else in my life and even in your death you have helped me grow and be better and realize even more about myself.

two years two years two years two years.

two years ago the sun spread its fingers against the sheets, telling us to pull them back.

two years ago, we both woke up at 1 am, stood up, looked at each other and felt strange without knowing what had happened and we got those texts from our friend. who had heard the news about a plane and asked if we had known anyone on it.

two years ago we got up in the morning and panicked, we weren't sure why until we picked up phones and tried calling and there was no answer. it was all so unsure. no one could give us an answer.

but we knew.

we knew.

the birds, brilliant and bright and beautiful, had fallen. the mourning had come.