Echoes of You

29

Dear Caitlin,

Tonight, as I was driving home, memories of our late-night drives came flooding back. Those spontaneous adventures, filled with laughter and the thrill of the open road, were some of my favorite times with you. You always had a way of turning an ordinary night into something magical.

I remember how you loved to drive. You'd take the wheel, your eyes sparkling with excitement, as we set off on our midnight escapades. We'd roll down the windows, letting the cool night air rush in, and play our favorite songs, singing along at the top of our lungs. Those drives were our escape, our way of breaking free from the mundane and finding joy in the simple act of being together.

One of our favorite destinations was that little burger joint on the outskirts of town. It wasn't anything fancy, but their burgers were the best we'd ever had. We'd pull up to the drive-thru, order our usuals, and then park under the stars, savoring every bite and every moment. You always knew how to make even a late-night burger run feel special.

Tonight, after everyone had gone home, I decided to take a drive by myself. I followed the familiar route, the one we took so many times. The streets were quiet, and the city lights cast a soft glow, reminding me of all those nights we spent exploring the world together. I felt a mix of sadness and comfort, missing you deeply but also cherishing the memories we made.

When I reached the burger joint, I parked in our usual spot and ordered our favorites. As I sat there, eating my burger and looking up at the stars, I felt your presence beside me. It was as if you were there, sharing the moment with me, reminding me of the love we shared and the adventures we had. I could almost hear your laughter, see your smile, and feel the warmth of your hand in mine.

On my way back home, I decided to take a detour and drive through the countryside. You loved those winding roads, the way they meandered through fields and forests. We'd often get lost, but it never mattered because we were together. Tonight, I felt that same sense of freedom, that same joy in the journey, even though I was alone.

When I got home, I sat down with my sketchpad and drew a picture of us on one of our late-night drives. I sketched you at the wheel, your hair blowing in the wind, and Toby in the backseat, his head sticking out the window. The drawing captured the essence of those nights—the laughter, the love, the sense of adventure.

Mark and Emily stopped by earlier, and we talked about you, as we often do. I told them about our late-night drives and how much you loved to drive. Mark shared a story about the time you convinced him to go on a midnight burger run with us. He laughed, recalling how you made him sing along to our favorite songs, and it felt good to share that memory.

The nights are still the hardest, Caitlin. The ache of your absence is always there, but having Mark, Emily, and Toby here has made it a bit more bearable. They've brought a sense of life and hope back into my days, and I'm grateful for their support. I miss you every moment, but I'm finding small ways to heal, to keep moving forward.

I love you more than words can say, Caitlin. I hope you can see how much you are loved and remembered, how your spirit continues to inspire me. I'll keep writing to you, sharing my days, my thoughts, my love. Forever in my heart, Caitlin.

Yours always,
Davin