For anyone else who has carried love without getting to carry the one they loved, this is for you. Your grief is real. Your story is sacred. You are not alone.
You were a flame
the wind met too soon,
a flicker I cupped
with both hands,
already calling you mine.
I never heard your laugh,
never saw your eyes,
but I carry the ache
like a lullaby
with no place to land.
Some hearts
beat only in echoes.
Some goodbyes
come before hello.
And still,
you mattered.
You mattered
so much.
Stay Weird. Love you. Mean it.
—No Apologies Just Stories.
