Grit.

There is grit in her eyes.
She is Silvia, 87 years old and sitting in her favorite chair. She rubs the grit from her eye seeing the blur of her first love flitter around her field of vision.
Her Husband is a strong man, he still works the garden, ordering dreamy legions of petals to burst up every spring.
Silvia can not remove the grit from her eye,It has been there 53 years. It represents a mass murder of her own fractured multiple self.
She will sleep tonight as always next to her husband, her Elliot knowing her heart belongs a long way away to another, who does not even breathe anymore, let alone lust.