We died, you see. Where there once was love, now there is death. Gravestones adorn places that once were sites of joy and spoke of love. Now they are buried or soon shall be.
I'm not ashamed to weep at these stones, I would feel amiss had I not. For I loved you, I loved us. I love what we were and could have been. The capacity to grow it and build it over time now corresponds with the strength it takes to see it for what it became. To not put out the fire on the few remaining visible smoldering bits. Grieve it all, bid it a much due farewell. One day may I reflect fondly and utter wise kindnesses at the buried boxes that once we were. For now, I hold just myself a bit more near. Goodbye, my love.
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