It’s been two years, today. Two years since you left me. Two years since your body failed you (although your courage never did). Two years since you passed through that last gate, and left me behind in this sad world, on my own.
Two years since I last heard you speak, since I last saw you smile. Today marks a moment that I have fully lived one tenth of the time I shared with you, without you. And that fraction only grows and becomes more frightening as the time unspools.
I sent you on your last journey with a yellow rose, one of our private little secrets and the stories that accreted to our time together. Full of meaning, full of love.
Here’s another, in memory.
Two years ago, I said goodbye. And I am still saying it. I don’t think I can ever stop saying it. Good bye. Good night. I love you.