Despite the rain that day, I forewent the umbrella.

After everything, soaked clothes were the least of my concerns.

Watching them lower him down was the most painful thing I ever had to endure

But he’ll never know it.

I lingered long after everyone else had left.

I only wish he had the common courtesy to follow suit.

Now, here I stand two years later

with no idea how I made it this far without him.

Sometimes, I think about jumping in after him

but then I realize worrying doesn’t suit me.

I mean he brought us joy long before he took himself from us.

Why should now be any different?