"Time heals all wounds" they say, but time is not my friend. On Tuesday night it will be 11 weeks since you died.
The inexorable march of time pulls me, unwillingly, away from you. As I tear each day's page from my desk calendar it reminds me that every day that passes takes me farther away from when I last held you in my arms. I have to reach another day further back in time to remember your smile, your laugh, your sarcasm, your wit.
I don't want to move into the future - the future doesn't have you in it.
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