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It was August 23rd, 1994. The sunlight trickled through your blinds as the sun gradually rose. But you've been up for hours, and despite how tired you were, you couldn't see yourself falling asleep any time soon. Your throat felt raw, as if someone scrapped it with a fork, and your cheeks felt clammy and wet. It was too exhausting to cry now and deep inside, you'd knew he wouldn't want you to cry.
Today was River's day and you missed him more than ever. You knew, later today, the calls would come pouring in. People will ask, "How are you holding up, [Name]?"
You weren't sure if you could handle that. You faintly wonder how River's family is doing, perhaps not any better than you—maybe you should call later. Grief was an awful thing.
His side of the bed is still untouched, it barely smells like him anymore. The remaining clothes of his in the closet have a faint scent, hardly lingering on. You felt like you were losing another part of him and the thought of it made you want to sob again.
However, there was no time left to cry. Today was the love of your life's birthday. Even if he's gone now, you can still honor him. You can look back and think of the cherished memories you shared with him. River left an impact and the best way is to celebrate his life is think of the good things. You should go out, help someone—do something River would appreciate.
You sit up from your spot on the bed, pushing aside your wild locks, and smile.
"I love you, River," you mumble, glancing at the picture frame on your nightstand. His smile was always genuine and radiant, filling you with a bittersweet warmth. The picture was from almost two years ago, on this same exact day, celebrating his birthday.
You'll miss him more than the world will ever know.
