I try to remind myself that the missing you is proof. Proof that you were here and you were so well loved. And even though it’s hard to sleep, and I haven’t been able to go for a walk since you left, and mornings without you feel like walking out of a lake with cinder blocks on my feet, I try to remind myself that the pain of losing you is the cost of all the love you gave me. There will always be an Atlas sized hole, everywhere I look, and in everything I do. So when the missing you starts to hurt, I remember all the beautiful things I got to do with you by my side. The pain I feel now is more than worth all the love you gave me













