Dear Zoe,
On this day, the one-year anniversary of your passing, I want the world to know what it lost: the brightest light, the sincerest Angel, the foremost Prophet of love.
And I want the world to know what I lost: My One. True. Love.
Babygirl, I pray that you’re happy. I pray that you no longer know the word “pain”. I pray that my heart will one day understand the concept that we never really “lose” a body but rather, in death, we gain a spirit.
Because I still do not understand. I want you here in body, screw spirit. And screw anybody who tells me “she’s with you in spirit” because they don’t know what it’s like to lose you.
But I do. I know what it’s like.
Sweetheart, time has not done what it promised: it has not lessened the pain of your passing. It has not glued my heart, that shattered as if glass on the day you died, back together…
…and I have stopped asking it to. I think time knows how extraordinary you were and its efforts at soothing the bitter blow of your absence are futile.
Zoe. Zoe. Zoe.
Always on the tip of my brain, my heart, my tongue. Your name beats in my chest. It sways with the trees in the wind.
It’s in the whispers between the rain.
It’s in the poetry on my body dedicated to you.
Zoe.
Zoe.
Zoe.
Loving you made me better. You made me more honorable in the world and you showed me how far I would go to save your life, the life of my soul mate…
…so I had no idea the best way to love you would be to let you go. That it would be the truest, deepest and clearest expression of my love for you.
And everyday, my girl, I pray that I did right by you. And if you say yes, I did, then I pray that I will continue to do right by you.
To honor your purpose. To be better because of you.
