Same time next year

It is so like a death.  My death, every move  is a reminder of loss. The clothing, art, garden, my music, my library, photos. All things that define my being. dust, and cinders.

we made a trip up, I took my own car as I really didn't want the long drive with the husband. Not did I want to spend the night.

I just went to collect plants from the surrounding buildings. In the high tunnel there were raspberries. I took my time reminiscing of dropping to my knees after unbuckling his belt. The truck diver's large thick cock dripping slightly to encourage me.  his soft moans growing deeper till he gasps " I need to be in you". Turning me around my skirt is lifted up to enter me. Carelessly fucking with no regard of being caught. He finishes, dizzy and sleepy he talked as though we had time to cuddle, that we were more.

The memories I cherish.

I take a quick picture with my phone, and text him " I will miss you here in my garden"

The husband is busy with his own tasks.

A truck pulls in. It is two older men. I don't at recognize them. As he hops out he comes to me and asks for a hugs. It is the fisherman. He holds me sweetly in his arms and speaks " I am so sorry for your loss". it is then that I comfort him as I have for all others like him that have lost this place. Meaning so much to so many, I suck it up, with grace and strength I say words of reassurance.
He turns to the husband and introduces himself and his friend. We chat about fishing and joke about the cost of my polls "I never tell my husband what I spend on fishing gear" he laughs and say the same of his wife. With an angst I have never heard regarding her.

Then we walk about to the river. He excitedly reminds where we sat in the swing, and fished....our first kiss. so bitter sweet. Walking past the ruins of the fireplace were we spent the night fucking....

He says goodbye, and another deep hug. He climbs in the truck , dreamily looking, starts to open the door, closes it and drives off.

They did come back later when I was gone. "Camped" the husband said. "Stayed mostly to themselves, funny bunch". He had never met them.