It was coming up on a year since I’d lost him already. I wouldn't be able to say last summer much longer when talking about him. I wouldn't even be able to say last year. Sometimes when I remembered our time together, I felt like the edges of my memories were blurred, some details lost in translation, already forgotten. Time was stealing him from me piece by piece. Only the love I carried in my heart remaining as constant as the day he'd gone. But even the pain was dulling now. It wasn't the raw and bloody thing it had once been, more an ever-present
