Today I sit by the river banks and remember you.
My heart softens at the thought that once you were here, you dreamt of me, and you hoped I would never forget you.
Even now, as I sit here, I see you. Your reflection smiles on the water's surface, tears glistening on your face. I see your arms wide open, waiting for whoever would fall into them. I hear your innocent chuckle, your slow sobs as you look at the sun again. It seems like the skies comfort you, they applaud you for being here, they always did. And look at you, finding courage in the certainty that the sun would return, even after the gloomiest storm.
You loved so vehemently, everything on your path. You gave so willingly, holding out your hands. I am so proud, even though you cannot see my smile. You are just a ghost, and one day I will become one too. I, like you, hope that the future never forgets me. I, like you, hope that the sun will return yet again. But you never worried about it; you simply trusted that it would, and it always did.
I comfort your troubled heart and I laugh. I laugh because you survived. I laugh because you were so young and brave and I am only here because you hoped to be me someday.
Do you know, that things never got easier, but you got stronger? You knew what to do, what to say, where to be. You let your heart lead you, and because of that, you survived. I believe that even if you hadn’t found the strength to keep moving forward, I would have still loved you. If you had taken a different path, I would have been there for you just the same. And if you had despaired, I would have visited you in your dreams.
I wish they told you that you didn’t have to be anything, that I wouldn’t have loved you any less. I wish they had told you that the burdens of others were theirs to carry, not yours. But how proud I am that you lived so selflessly well.
I lost the innocence of your smile, but I found a wisdom of understanding, of coming back home to you. The tears never stopped, but neither did the laughter. And now I think of you from time to time.
You shouldn’t have ostracized yourself for feeling. Now I see how feeling was a way of surviving because I feel so many things—lost, happy, empty, full—like summer and winter, like the rain and the sun all at once. But feeling is art, feeling is poetry, and it’s how I found you again.
The water lost its color, but the dolor still hangs around. It visits me once in a while.
Now, as the sun sets, I don’t wish to leave you here. But you look so free under the vastness of the sky, with your feet dangling over the water. You seem so unafraid as you look up reassuringly. A soft smile on your lips. You will be here, I know. I will always return to you because this is home.
The water pours down the stream, and your laughter melodiously floats in the wind. You didn’t think we would get this far, but here we are now, you and me. Tomorrow, I hope she doesn’t forget us either.
Oh, how proud I am of you.
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