Good Grief 7

Anniversaries1
Anniversaries are strewn everywhere like leaden flowers, not like these; anniversaries are not hearts ease. They drop from a great height, unstoppable meteors dropping in dark waters in a surreal, unfamiliar landscape. You watch helplessly as they bizarrely ripple backwards yet leave deathly still, unfathomable waters stretching ahead. They thud to the ground with the weight of heavy metal casting an echo through eons of time past but stopping dead in time present and time future.
Today is not an anniversary. And yet, every day is an anniversary of a life lived, a life not lived, of a moment, of the wedding day, the birthday, the birthday of someone else, the day we met, the day we fell out, the day we were separate but were alive in the world and would be together again, the day I rang to ask if you wanted anything from the shop, and the day you died, and then the first anniversary of that, and the second ...and so it goes on.
Each anniversary is like a acid drop of brilliant iridescence that falls in a dead monochrome void. As time passes it ceases to be remembered by others who live in the world and it falls unseen and silently into endless space and it becomes our private universe where no-one else will ever live.