Last sunday was a lot of... you
I woke up and realized I wouldn't see a "good morning, beautiful" text with a little smiley at the end.
I ate breakfast and had a flashback to the time you came over at 6 in the morning to make me waffles with blueberries in them.
I sat in church and thought about your passion and love for God.
I went out for lunch in a small cafe and your old favorite song began playing.
When I got home, the tv was still on. Fresh Prince was on, the show we watched together every other night.
I decided a walk would be nice, but when I went outside I saw pink tulips in my neighbors yard. Pink tulips were the first flowers you gave me. So I went back inside.
I flopped on my bed and a piece of paper flew from under my mattress.
The letter was over two years old. It was from you. You hid a note under my mattress when you found out you were leaving for good. I couldn't believe it for a minute, a part of you was actually there with me. It was almost too good to be true. But I held that note in my hand, and before reading I swore to myself I wouldn't cry. I swore that no matter what this note said, you'd always be alive in my heart.
I found out today that I have two months left with you. Two months of hospitals, pills I thought I'd never have to take, needles, and nurses wearing a hiddeous shade of green from head to toe. I guess this is what God has planned for me, I get to see him early! I want you to know that wherever my body ends up, my soul will leave. I'll fly around the world everyday and I'll be with you wherever you are. I wish I could call you beautiful every morning for the rest of your life. I wish I could make you blueberry waffles when you're too sleepy to get out of your bed. I wish I could sit in church with you every sunday, and touch your hands when everyone is praying. I wish that everyday I could hear you sing my favorite song, I assume the angels will sound just like you when they sing. I wish I could watch just a few more episodes of Fresh Prince with you right next to me. I wish I could have one more extra day to drop some pink tulips off on your doorstep.
I don't know when you'll find this letter if you ever do, but I want you to know I love you. I will never die in your heart."
I know I swore to not cry, but I'll admit. I did cry. You have not died in my heart, Marc.