missing person

It’s strange, isn’t it? How someone can be gone and yet feel everywhere. They’re not here, but they’re in the way the wind moves through the trees, in your morning coffee, in the song that plays at the grocery store. Grief isn’t just about the tears. It’s in the quiet moments. The empty chair at the dinner table. The urge to call them when something amazing happens. You find them in the smallest places, in the smell of their old sweater, in the phrases you’ve picked up, and some days it hurts more than words can hold. The weight of what’s lost feels too heavy. But there’s a beauty in it too. In knowing they loved you enough to leave a part of themselves behind, you learn to carry them not in sadness, but in the way you live, in the way you love, in the way you hold those memories as something sacred. Because love doesn’t disappear. It changes form, it lives on inside of you.