I was held for a few moments in the coherence and safety of the life we had, when so much seemed predictable.

How hideous, that there should be a pecking order in my grief.

Seven years on, and their absence has expanded. Just as our life would have in this time, it has swelled.

I would plead into the darkness, where are they, bring them back

I will kill myself soon. But until then, how do I tame my pain?

Their promise, my children's possibilities, still linger in our home.

I must stop remembering... The more I remember, the greater my agony. These thoughts stuttered in my mind...I must be more watchful, I told myself. I must shut them out. I couldn't always keep this up.

My boys. I don't have them to hold. What do I do with my arms?

I was terrified that tomorrow the truth would start.

I must stop remembering. I must keep them in a faraway place. The more I remember, the greater my agony. These thoughts stuttered in my mind. So I stopped talking about them, I wouldn't mouth my boys' names, I shoved away stories of them. Let them, let our life, become as unreal as that wave.