A Letter

I used to write to you. Long letters or short paragraphs, whenever I missed you or I thought of you. When it was your birthday or the anniversary of your going. Sometimes just because. In between those rows of words, you were still with me. We could still talk. There was still you and me. I don’t write much anymore, and if you asked me why, I couldn’t really give an answer. It’s not because I don’t still love you....