epliogue: piece of you

One year had passed since that fateful day, and I found myself walking slowly through the snow-covered streets.

I was heading to the graveyard, clutching a jacket close to me. It was a cold winter's day, and the chill in the air reminded me of that day. Ever since he died, I hadn't been to the graveyard.  Not even once.

My breath turned to mist as I inhaled and exhaled, the cold air hitting my lungs. I made my way to the grave, my heart pounding in my chest.

I couldn't believe it had been a year since he died. A year since everything changed. I felt like I had been frozen in time, unable to move forward. But as I stood there, I knew I had to say something. I had to let him know I was still here, that I still loved him.

I felt my throat tighten as I finally reached the grave. I fidgeted with the ring that was still on my finger.  I sat down, my fingers brushing against the cold stone of the headstone.

"Hey, my darling," I said, my voice shaking. I tried to keep my composure, but it was hard. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, threatening to spill over. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "I miss you," I whispered, my heart aching. "so much."

I could feel the tears streaming down my face, and I knew I was a mess. Even though it had been a year, the pain was still raw. I thought I had moved on, but as I sat there, I realized that I was still grieving. That I was still broken.

You'd think I'd be okay but I had planned my entire life with this person, I had planned to marry him, to form a family together.

"Esme looks just like you," I said, my voice catching in my throat. "You didn't even get to see her," I pictured my daughter's face in my mind, her big, light grey eyes. She was the spitting image of her father. It was like I could see him in her every day. "She has your eyes, your skin, your everything," I whispered. I smiled, thinking of how happy I was to have a piece of him still with me.

"One day, she'll ask about you," I said, my voice quivering.

I imagined sitting down with my daughter, telling her all about her father. "I'll tell her about our love story," I continued, my heart aching.

I imagined all the things I would say to her, all the stories I would tell. I would tell her how he was the most amazing person I had ever met, and how lucky I was to have known him. I would tell her about our love, and how it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

"But I know you're okay, wherever you are and eventually,  I'll be okay too,"

"I know that you'll always be mine, and I'll forever be yours," I whispered, the words catching in my throat.

It was like I could hear his voice, so clear and so real. I could almost feel his hand in mine, and his lips against my skin saying, "Always and forever," and I whispered it right back, my voice breaking.

I closed my eyes, trying to hold onto the memory of him. The feeling of his touch, the sound of his voice.

He was gone, but he would always be embedded in my heart, soul and mind.

Always and forever.

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