The thing about losing the love of your life is that you get to make up what would have happened afterward. You’re entitled to dream that all of your tomorrows would have been perfect, because you loved him so much, you’re allowed to flex and bend every situation in your head so he’d say and do all of the right things. Your love story never really ends, because your brain paints him into every photograph and he’s there beside you on all of your special days.
