It's funny because everything makes me think of you. I read a poem, and I wonder what you'd say about it.
I see people, and I wonder you'd know about them.
Everywhere I go, I run into something, that remindes me of you all over again.
There’s a difference between saying good bye and letting go. Saying good bye is 'I'll see you again when I'm ready to hold your hand, and when you're ready to hold mine.' Letting go is 'I'll miss your hand. But I realized it's not mine to hold, and I will never hold it again.'
They say the first year after a major loss is the hardest. That’s an understatement; loss is its own brand of insanity and no relief from it. There are no shortcuts and the only way through grief is through it. You just have to get up every day and wait to go to bed every night, then wake up and do it all over again.
A thousand deaths, and you recover from each. Not so the mind, the mind is much more fragile. Its scars run deep and do not heal. The brain is encased in a hard bone shell, difficult to breach, but with no defense against that which eats at it from within.
Poets often describe love as an emotion that we can't control, one that overwhelms logic and common sense. That's what it was like for me. I didn't plan on falling in love with you, and I doubt if you planned on falling in love with me. But once we met, it was clear that neither of us could control what was happening to us. We fell in love, despite our differences, and once we did, something rare and beautiful was created. For me, love like that has happened only once, and that's why every minute we spent together has been seared in my memory. I'll never forget a single moment of it.