One Year

It's been almost a year since I lost you - almost a year since I held you in my arms and watched you take your last breath. One year since those beautiful brown eyes held light and love. One year since your fragile form became limp.

A year since I buried you.

And though this year seems to have gone by in the blink of an eye, it also feels like it's been a lifetime. A lifetime without you. A lifetime of me calling out your name, looking for your face on holidays and road trips. A year of looking back and imagining how everything would be different, better, if only you still stood by my side.

It's impossible to describe the ache I feel each time I think of you. Which is all the time. It's impossible to picture myself as anything other than this heartbroken mess. It's impossible to imagine how I've made it this far without you, and how I'm going to make it further. Two years, three, a decade.

I'll never forget the day you arrived. You were a ball of energy that lit a fire in my heart. And for those two months, those two amazing, short months, you weren't just my best friend, you were my family.

I'll never stop regretting.

I'll never look back and wonder if I could have saved you. If one thing of a thousand had been done differently, would you still be here? Just one moment. One decision.

You were supposed to be okay. I was promised you would be okay. I learned the hard way to never make a promise you couldn't keep, because an unkept promise cost your life.

If I'd known - if I'd known I was spending my last few hours with you, I would have stayed up all night. I would have gotten up when I heard you moving around the room. Would have taken more time to notice how you were struggling. Would have rushed you to help sooner. But now you're gone. Now I'll never get those hours back.

I would give the world to spend even one more minute with you. I'd give anything to see that goofy face one last time.

You went home, Bubba, but I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready for you to leave me. You were my home.

I've never felt more alone than I did that day - than I do now. Now that it's nearly been one year. Six more days.

If I'd known I would only have you for six more days, I would have done things different. I would have spent more time with you, loved you more, cared deeper, made those last moments the best we could have.

But the past can't be changed and the pain won't go away.

So I'll sit here, alone and in tears. One year later.