August 7th, 2015

       "We took a few days off, to collect ourselves. The first day she seemed very distant, even took a few walks by herself to clear her head. We are both settling back into managing our grief in our own ways, but I can't help but think it would be better if we dealt with it together. But I give her the space that she needs because I know better than to do anything otherwise. Back at the start, neither of us could process our emotions and our guilt, both of us struggling with our memories and nightmares worse than now, and we learned that we both had our own coping mechanisms. That is what is going on now, we work better together, but sometimes we need the space.

       The next day was better, today was better. Her eyes had a soft look to them, as if she was worried one wrong look might upset me. It would, but I wouldn't show it to her. Not that she couldn't see right through me; I'm transparent around her and that's okay. Because if I'm transparent, she can also see everything I feel. About her, how much I truly love her, how much guilt I feel whenever I think of how I've hurt her in the past. I don't want the guilt to be the reason she stays, and I know it isn't. Nights like the night she got into my head... It reveals the delicate balance about us, but it also reveals the strength that keeps us together. There is something so engrained in my body and my mind, something that connects me to her. And I know that she feels it too."