I miss you
In the death of the night, where your calm rhymed breathe used to lull me to sleep
In the empty space on my passenger seat where you liked to take a quick nap
In the pouring rain where your warm embrace always light up the sky
In the silence at the end of my sentence where you tend to finish my words, or cut me off with that sharp tongue
In the absence of caffeine smell that woke me up every morning
I miss you in every breathe that I take, every strained smile that graze my face, and every tears that I shed.
Because my heart is just an empty space without you.
Forever yours,
Your silly hopeless romantic
“I’m sorry I can’t fulfill your last wish,” he quietly say as he put the letter down. “It’s been twenty years, and still I haven’t found anyone else to share my days with, as you had wished.”
“I won’t marry anyone else, love. Never will. This ring finger is reserved for you, and only you,” he vows, unconsciously caressing the silver bands around his ring finger, like he always do whenever he remember the good old times.
“Because yours, is still the name I secretly whisper in my prayers.”
With a sigh, he put the bouquet of white roses on the black marble, next to the carefully written love letter.
“Happy 22nd anniversary, you.”
À la mort,
Drawing by the awfully talented Saga
