To you, my dear, my love:

by Trixie Jack Mattachine
(Farmington, ME, USA)

Akka: Not a day goes by when I don't find myself looking for you. I wake up alone, and the inevitable chill that sneaks up my body through the bottom of my feet reminds me of the cold silence that you've left behind.

The sky, clear and soft and far too bright, is the same simple blue of your eyes. The fall leaves crunching and crumbling, for just a moment, share the same vibrant hue of your fire-colored hair. I smell the lilacs of a warm May morning and hope—even just for a moment—that it is you I smell, my dear.

You are gone from me. 5 years, each day an eternity without you. When you died, all of me died with you. Everything I am now, you are a stranger to. I want to see you, the sun sparkling off your cheeks, the lilt of your laugh when I trip over my words.

I miss you. I love you. Someday I hope to see you one last time. But it's not quite time yet. I have living yet to do. But I promise, I'll join you when the fighting's done.