A song from long ago enters my earbuds at the onset of a run I’m hoping will help subdue the emotional heartache within:  You’re Still the One, by Shania Twain.

You’re still the one I run to–even though you feel like an apparition just out of reach.

I remember when we unofficially made this “our song” on the living room floor of our makeshift picnic, when the girls were away at my sister’s house for a long weekend alone (no further comment on this escapade).

Still the one.

I used to have this unexplainable feeling when with him, I’d say something like, “I feel like I know you, but I don’t know you.” It was endearing really, like I couldn’t wrap my mind and heart around the intensity of my affection for him. I know, hardly makes sense.

1. He was passionate about politics.  Repeat:  He was passionate about politics.

He refused to be called traditional labels, and instead would correct you with, “I’m not a Republican, I’m a Constitutionalist.” Even though he referred to me with a label, “My little Liberal.”

When an election was on the calendar, he would pour over news and articles, sometimes attempting to persuade me in writing by writing out who to vote for on specific issues, saying something about how I wasn’t paying attention. Hmmm, again, no comment.

This election I’ll go in solo with a whisper over my shoulder, and into my ear, to tap the button on the candidate of his choice, or maybe his shoulders will slouch a bit by my choice. Only the booth will know the truth of my selection.

2. He refused to have a flu shot, believing somehow this was a a conspiracy from the government. Not sure exactly what that conspiracy is, as I avoid the shot for the different reasons, like taking chances with coughs and sneezes and infected air. Oh, and the fact I don’t like shots.

3. He hated his face on any social media outlet, like Facebook, and preferred anonymity. Likely for the same reason as shots.

Sorry Bill, but I’m sharing the pic that is on the wall in my closet–it says it all of my love for you, causing a smile and a tear simultaneously.

Today would’ve been your birthday. Though you are no longer here, the imprint on my heart is like a hand that was placed in wet cement, dried and cemented intact permanently.

You’re still the one that I love
The only one I dream of…you’re still the one. 

I love you Bill Barone.

Always.