Devotion

I had become, without realizing it, everything she wanted. I pressed my palms together, knelt down, bowed my head, and prayed as much as I could. And yes, I was praying to God. I was praying to her. I prayed for what we had lived and for what could never be. I prayed for her soul and for her love. I prayed for every memory, one by one, as if naming them could somehow save them. I prayed until I understood it wasn't faith I was feeling. It was devotion. Because her memories are my God.