We've said "I love you" so many times. We've said "goodbye" so many times.
Each time expecting it's the last. Hoping it isn't. Hoping it is.
I keep coming, not for your benefit, not for mine. Maybe for us both.
I've accepted that you're gone for so long, that now that it's almost true I'm having trouble accepting it.
I don't want you to be gone, but I want you to go easily.
Today was the hardest. Seeing it's not easy for you. Your hardship is hard for all of us.
I want for you the serenity you're supposed to have in the brochures.
I'm not ok. You're not ok.
Please be ok.
