Cold Irrelevance of a Prime Number

Dear John,

 

Seventeen months today. A prime number. Totally irrelevant fact.

 

Today everything seems irrelevant. I'm dead and heavy inside. It feels like there's a tremendous amount of pain inside me, but I have it walled off behind emotional inertia. A heart at rest tends to stay at rest unless acted upon by an outside force? See, I remember my physics. But my heart has been acted upon a bit too much lately. I don't know how long it will be able to stay at rest.

 

This is the first Friday the 13th since the day you died. That date was completely overshadowed by its being Holy Friday. There's nothing to cast shadows today - just cold uncompromising loss. And there's more loss that you may not know about - Father's mother died this morning. It was expected, but still so sad. We will all miss her.

 

It's cool tonight, going down to the 30s. I have a few windows open a crack so it doesn't get stuffy. The thermostat says 67 now. It's clear tonight and the moon's at half. It's only10:30, and all the street is deserted except for the light on at DeWayne's. I think I'll take my heavy heart off to bed.

 

Tonight I just feel the emptiness of your absence. I do believe the inertia will fail soon and I'll have a good long cry. The dog will sit in my lap and lick the tears off my face, and the cat will come and massage my head. The sky will be clear and the moon at half. DeWayne will go to bed and all the street will be dark. And I'll still love you.

 

Forever,

Joan.