It's been three months since I saw you for the last time. It's been six months since that fateful day where you dropped the bombshell. I miss you, and what you were to me so much. I am so incredibly grateful for the odd message here or there, but I miss you so much more than you'll ever be able to understand. The strange thing is, I don't even have a gravestone to visit. I have picked a place that will substitute and I visit from time to time, thinking of you as I look out to sea, but then I remember that you are still here, I just can't access you. I can't hold your hand. I can't look in your eyes. I can't hear your gentle words. I can't rest my head on your shoulder. I can't hear your laugh. I can't just be with you. Other people can, but I can't. Will I ever be able to again? I know that we don't know what the future holds, and I know that you are ok. With things taking time (I always did know you had the patience of a saint!) But it is not a virtue that I share, sadly. I think losing my Mum when she was a younger age than you are now led me to realise that time is so incredibly finite. We might not have tomorrow, and the thought of that scares me, and helps me to live as best I can each day (I know sometimes I don't succeed, but that's ok, I do my best). So yeah. I miss you terribly, and I can only hope that one day I might be able to see your kind face again, and I'll smile, look in your eyes, and hopefully make you smile too. I love you.