Tomorrow marks a week since you moved on, from this existence to the next. It's easier, I guess, in that I'm not dying on the inside 24 hours a day. There are actually times that I can think of other things, and then it suddenly hits me. In those moments, the pain is as fresh as it was when I got the phone call, telling me you were dead.
The knowing things are done. There aren't any do-overs or chances to finally get it right & heal our relationship. No more coffee outside with you. No more of your beautiful music & profound thoughts. I didn't even get a goodbye. I had so much more to say to you.
The knowing things are done. There aren't any do-overs or chances to finally get it right & heal our relationship. No more coffee outside with you. No more of your beautiful music & profound thoughts. I didn't even get a goodbye. I had so much more to say to you.
No comments:
Post a Comment