Remember when we used to walk hand in hand?
You used to whisper in my ear, “I love you.”
I recall the feel of your breath against my ear, the tickle it made against my skin.
I felt the warmth in my cheeks, a spreading blush that I couldn’t stop.
Your quiet laugh, making the blush darken.
I turned toward you and smiled. I stood on tip-toe to reach your ear, and whispered— “I love you more.”

Remember when you sat me down on that park bench?
You sat beside me, and you asked me the most absurd question!
You asked me, “Do you love me?”
I could’ve laughed out loud at how ludicrous it sounded.
I looked you straight in the eye and said, “Yes. I will never love anyone as much as I love you.”
I’d never seen your smile any brighter than it was at that moment.
“Well, in that case—” you started. “Will you marry me?”
I burst into tears.
You looked alarmed, frightened even. “What’s wrong?”
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to say that. Yes, yes, I’ll marry you.”

Remember our wedding day, Darling?
It was the happiest day of my life. As I walked down the aisle, all I saw was you.
It was just you and me, my love, just you and me.
I couldn’t wait to start our life together.
Nothing could stop us, nothing. Except….

I don’t remember the doctor’s exact words.
It’s a blur. All a blur.
I do recall snippets, though.
“The car was totaled.” “Severe head trauma.” “No pulse.” “Dead at the scene.”
I cried. Cried and cried and cried. I thought my eyes would never be dry again.
They would always be filled with tears of sorrow.
But the sorrow I feel still feel now, years later, does not— no, can not muffle my feelings for you.
I still love you. I will always love you.
Remember that.
Remember.