Was fine till I sat with you

Was fine all day. No grief bursts in awhile. No real deep sadness. The day was productive. But right around 6pm I got the desire to go to the cemetery. I haven't been in a week or so and just felt the need to go. So I went. And sat on my bench. And just began to cry. I don't know where these tears came from but they just poured. As I looked at the headstone, the name, dates, I just cried harder. Then I recalled a memory of him sitting at the computer and talking and suddenly there was that disbelief. How could he be dead? He was just here. Talking. Eating. Living. Breathing. Doing. How is he dead? I almost hate when this happens because it forces my mind to go back to the day he died and in a flash relive those moments so I will catch up to the present. I miss him. The ache in my heart is so physical. I love him. As I cried I asked him to please let me see him. So I looked around, scanning the trees in the distance. For a shape. An outline. A light. Anything. I just want to sit with him in real life. I remember the last few auctions we went to. I was sitting next to him and he was so pale and tired from the doctors and hospital. But still so strong. I remember laying my head on his shoulder and how good that felt. It was something I rarely did, I guess because of my independent, self sufficient nature. I wish I had done it more often. It would feel so good to lay my head on his shoulder tonight.