you were eight weeks old a small thing but our hands were smaller still, you fit there held as though you were meant to break maybe someday, but not today.
today, you made love into a character trait it curled into our chests and settled there, somewhere and the weight of it has grown for i have not room to breathe it has not left.
now, there is nothing left of you save for blurred images blurry eyes, salt water drops rippling in an ocean—
i used to take you there. there, you would greet everyone new like they existed just to learn your name there, a child said hello to you for the first time fifteen years later, you said it back for the last.
and i could not help but to think if you had died eleven days later you would have seen the flowers bloom.
If I could tell you that everything could end right now, what would you do? If I escape this night and never come back, would you hate me for the short notice?
If I could just disappear into thin air, would you die trying to find me, or would you move on with the next season? Would you ever understand the depths of my love if I left you an envelope to tell you why I was leaving? To these questions, I can never really seem to find the answer but I hope that when this reaches you, my soul can rest at peace. For so long, in my life I have always been fascinated by the miniscule things that the people that cared for me the most became smaller in every way. Like tiny little objects you lay out on the patio. I was fortunate enough to have you in my life, but if I lose you I would never be able to forgive myself. So please, if you do not find me, don't mourn my loss. Celebrate the time we had and the moments we spent together. Open up a charity or two in my name. the answers that I could never find in my life, you have to find them for me. Please continue to look after the dogs and our children. Let them do, whatever they want in their life. Let them be free because in them, you will see me, and our love will keep on living.