Because I loved you


I cannot hold your hand this year, I cannot share that memory. I cannot pour a drink for you or walk the beach where we both walked. I cannot laugh as we both laughed or dance a night time’s life away, sure we have eternity

I cannot hold your arm this year, and steady you across the road: two old people braving time and laughing at futility. I cannot travel back with you, glass in hand, to memories when young at heart, we hid our  insecurities.

I cannot see you in the room, smiling as you always did, at some transgression in our midst, or drive too fast down country lanes or swim where reckless people did: ignoring safety was our ” thing.”

We always got away with it: made it to the other side; but you are gone and I am here, stripped of context by my age, a mystery in this sheltered home, now without a family. I cannot hold your hand this year.

Advertisements

About Peter Wells aka Countingducks

Trying to remember what my future is
This entry was posted in Compassion, creative writing, Fiction, Peter Wells and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

48 Responses to Because I loved you

  1. ksbeth says:

    so sad and full of love. happy holidays to you and yours –

    Like

  2. davidprosser says:

    That touched me greatly Peter since it echoes my own position so well. And while I may not see her in the room as often these days I still get a sense of her being around and I want to turn and talk to her.
    Hugs

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Grief is acutely felt on the holidays. It’s such a shame that it is part of life.

    Like

  4. Jaclyn Rae says:

    This is so beautiful.

    Like

  5. Jack Eason says:

    Beautiful Peter 🙂

    Like

  6. A very moving piece, Peter. Hugs to you.

    Like

  7. OOO, don’t make me cry, darling. xxxxx

    Like

  8. L. R. Palmer says:

    Beautiful… sniff… offering you hugs this holiday, and hopes that happy memories help fill the void of loved ones lost…

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Unutterably moving, Peter.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. His smile is in the sun that glitters on my meadow, his warmth is in the fire I build to warm my home. But, yes, I miss his hand.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. gotham girl says:

    Ok…I’m bawling here. Simply beautiful.

    Like

  12. laroseedespetiteschoses says:

    Oh Peter, this is so beautifully sad! “The smile, the bright blue eyes,the gentle voice,the tender squeeze on the hand…” Yes! all that I miss! I wish you peace and love at this time of the year. Thank you for sharing your beautiful writing.

    Like

  13. This is a very moving story, Peter, helped, I feel, by the repition that you have employed. A lovely piece.

    Like

  14. Sue Vincent says:

    Beautifully done, Peter, though too close to home for some of us.

    Like

  15. Nirodaigh says:

    Gave me a lump in my throat, counts for the loss of all our loved ones. Beautifully written, I hope u can still enjoy the lovely memories u clearly have. And find comfort in that and those who are still here to care for u. If u get a chance, maybe take a glance at my post about the loss of a dear aunt, and how I felt reluctant to ‘give in’ to the familiar pain of loss. Knowing I would have to, of course. It’s called “Goodbye in any language is a big ask”. Maybe will help too.

    Liked by 1 person

  16. Al says:

    Sadness and love are always intertwined….though not nearly with as much beauty as when you write about them.

    Like

  17. Je says:

    Ah, this is so sad yet beautiful. A very moving story. I love it. ^^

    Liked by 1 person

  18. ASH says:

    Very nice FYI notched minor typo?:

    “but are you are gone”

    Always enjoy the conversational confidences of your work

    ASH

    Please visit My ASH-FICTION.COM SITE

    Like

  19. This brought tears to my eyes. What a beautiful way to remember a loved one.

    Liked by 1 person

  20. Jon Stephens says:

    So sad, and yet so full of love. Great post.

    Liked by 1 person

  21. Steve Wand says:

    Lovely, touching words that lost none of their sentiment in their journey across the Atlantic.

    Liked by 1 person

  22. These are the times we feel their absence most – the festive times – watching the young with all their lives in front of them and wishing somehow we could be that way again. Nonetheless there is happiness in memories too. I wish you all the best, aware nothing can replace the things you miss, but hoping the season can still bring you joy. We all await the coming of spring.

    Liked by 1 person

  23. Janni Styles says:

    So poignant for so many reasons. Nicely done. Going to share if I can figure out how. 😊❤️

    Liked by 1 person

  24. Pingback: Because I loved you | JanniStyles1

  25. calvin says:

    Janni Styles dun figured it out, as I followed the crumbs here. And I must concur; poignant for all the right reasons. Ever so hard would it be to live or unbearable to realize the futility of carrying on without the context of a special someone’s (for me I’d insert my Mother). Without the memory of them, if it were to vanish, the impact as traumatic as living in the moment of stepping in front of train, over and over and over again.

    Like

  26. renxkyoko says:

    So beautiful and so poignant.

    A happy Christmas to you, Peter wells. You’re such an inspiration.

    Liked by 1 person

  27. Marquessa says:

    So touching Peter!

    Like

  28. So beautiful and touching.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s