Sometimes I wish I could text you, call you and hear your voice, tell you that I love you.
I wouldn’t tell you that I’ve spent the last few years of my life regretting our breakup.
Nothing is comparable to the pain of witnessing your own parent plunge into nonexistence as death silently robs them away from you. It might initially be surreal. You could end up sitting on the cold floor of a hospital, momentarily transported to a semi-conscious state and only jostled to awareness when a mature (or emotionally stronger) family member holds your shoulder in empathy.
Give them your jacket when they say it’s cold. Be spontaneous. Be patient. Be kind with your words.
Not too long ago, I’ve occupied myself by taking up a new hobby. Because life is only once and we should always explore new things, right?