Echoes of You

11

Dear Caitlin,

Today was one of those days where the grief felt all-encompassing. I spent the morning trying to distract myself, but it was impossible. Everywhere I went, every task I undertook, I was reminded of you. I found myself going through the old playlist we made together. It was filled with songs we loved, songs that were the soundtrack to our life together. Listening to them was both comforting and painful.

I remember how you used to sing along to the songs, how you would get excited when your favorite tune came on. I played our song, the one we danced to at our first anniversary, and I could almost see us swaying together, lost in the music, lost in each other. But as the song ended, the silence that followed was deafening. I felt a profound sense of loss, an ache that seemed to permeate every part of me.

In the afternoon, I went for a walk by the river. We used to walk there together, holding hands and talking about our dreams. I walked alone today, and every step felt heavy, burdened by the weight of your absence. The river, which used to symbolize our flowing love, now felt like a cold, indifferent force. I sat by the water for a while, letting the tears flow freely, hoping that somehow the river would carry them away.

The evenings are the hardest. I sit in the dark, surrounded by the remnants of our life together, trying to find some sense of peace. I miss the way you used to curl up next to me, the way you would talk about your day, your dreams. I miss your touch, your laughter, your love. Writing to you helps me feel connected to you, but it also makes me realize how much I've lost. I love you more than words can express, Caitlin. I hope you can feel my love, wherever you are.

With all my love, 

Davin