Like sand in clutched hands..

The sea and the beach had s always held my fascination... The boundless expanse of variegated blue and brown... Seamless, ceaseless, eternal... But I seem to have lost something here along with Mukund.. I have lost the bliss I used to feel every time I felt one with this wonderful figment of gods creation.. Somewhere amidst these waves float the remains of my husband..or maybe like everything in nature it has moved on to stranger places.... But I still wish for him.. I wish for my soul... True... It is my soul that I compromised that day...it has eroded a little every passing day.. Lost somewhere in this vastness without a mind to turn back to.. Maybe the day I enjoy being at the beach again will signal the moment I have truly moved on.. But I fear that phase... "Moving on"... Isn't it akin to leaving him behind?... The truth is that I am holding on to this weakness of mine.. Stubbornly... Like clutching a handful of sand.. Though I can feel the golden grains of memory and resolve draining, I still hold on to what little is left.. And yet .. And yet... I am filled with dread at the very thought of opening my hand.. Though the irony is I am unclear about the cause of my fear.. Is it the fear that there might be very little left in the once clutched hands .. Or is it the fear to glance at what is left behind itself and the devastating emotions it will bring forth... I wonder...