This is not a lovers path. As I walk along this thought creeps across my brain. Step by step I stare down at my bare feet slapping the stones one right in front of the other. This is the only path, its narrow and barely has enough space for one person let alone two. Lovers hold hands, side by side. They would fall eventually and picturing a couple trying to accomplish this made me laugh. The path is long, and damp so you have to walk carefully. Sometimes the mist is so heavy you can barely see the next stone in front of you, no matter how heavy the mist, you have to keep going. Sometimes you have a lot to carry along the path, those are the hardest journeys when the mist gets heavy and the stones are drenched. One foot in front of the other, I repeat this phrase to help myself stay focused. I do wish he was here though, by my side walking. I know its impossible yet its all I can think about. But unlike the imaginary couple in my mind, he wouldn’t even try to walk by me. Behind or in front of me maybe, but that’s not what I had on repeat in my head. And either way, he still wasn’t here so it didn’t matter anyway. But it did matter, my heart was heavy with grief for all the years we spent together. One foot in front of the other. This is the only path.