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Days since separation
0 Days

About that "day"

That day... was the beginning of joy finding its way into my home. Every beautiful memory I carry seems, in one way or another, to lead back to you.

Every beautiful memory I carry seems, in one way or another, to lead back to you.

The beginning The good time The end

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Poems

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I

Morning Light

In the silence before dawn breaks,
I hear the echo of your name—
A whisper the wind gently takes
And writes across the morning flame.

The sun rises where you once stood,
Casting gold on every memory,
As if the world understood
That you were light itself to me.

II

The Space Between

There is a space between your leaving
And the place where I remain—
A garden still believing
In the flowers after rain.

I tend it still, that quiet ground,
Where every petal holds your face.
The softest of all sounds
Was simply being in your grace.

III

Narges

Named for the flower that blooms in fields,
Where dew becomes a thousand stars—
Beauty that no winter wields
Can touch, though time may leave its scars.

You are the narcissus of my spring,
The fragrance carried on the breeze,
The only song worth singing
In all the world's vast melodies.

IV

Letters Never Sent

I wrote you letters made of light,
In ink distilled from every star—
Words that burned too bright
To travel as far as where you are.

They live inside me, folded tight,
Each one a door I dare not open.
Perhaps one ordinary night
They'll find the words still left unspoken.

V

What Remains

When everything has passed its prime
And all the clocks have lost their hands—
What outlasts both love and time
Is where a memory still stands.

And there you are, in every room,
In laughter, morning, and in tea,
In every flower that will bloom,
You are what remains of me.

Significant Dates

◈
The First Day

When everything began

The day the world rearranged itself quietly, without announcement. You walked in and something in the air shifted — the way light changes when a door opens. I did not know then what I know now: that this moment would be the one I return to again and again.

The Good Days

When time felt infinite

There was a stretch of days that felt like an endless afternoon — golden, unhurried, and warm. We laughed at small things. We stayed up too late. We thought the ordinary was extraordinary, and we were right. Those days were home.

April 27, 2026

The last day

The day the silence arrived to stay. Not the comfortable silence we had built together — but the other kind. The absence kind. Since that morning, the counter has been running. Every dawn is a new number. Every number is a reminder that some things, once gone, leave a shape that nothing else fills.

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