Dear Loco,
Today is the 9th of January. You passed on the 9th of December. A full moon you passed, and another has come and waned from existence.
Sometimes I think I don’t know my own heart. I know I waver some moments wondering if this is all a fever dream. But some things shine through with a perseverance stronger than others. I know it is the greatest privilege of my life to have loved you, and to have been seen by you.
The great cost of loving someone is not knowing that love again. Because beyond a frame of existence there are no rules. And uncharted territory conjures up fear.
I want to push ahead into new realms of knowing and loving. I want to turn the page.
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