Today I went to the seaside.
Today you were in the beachside moments, that ever so poetically and heartbreakingly duplicated our times gone past.
Today as I looked down onto a postcard alcove, today as I hiked in the sun, today as I ate fresh seafood, today as I got lost with bad Spanish, today as I rode the long train and the bus, today you were never far.
Today I wished I brought the bracelet you made me and said a ceremonial goodbye.
Tomorrow I’ll again put off this sad notion.
A month ago you made the choice to leave us behind.
A month ago I sobbed until my body ceased to shake and the shock subsided. The day after again. And again.
Yesterday it hurt less.
The day before a little more.
One day I’ll stop questioning why.
RIP Katy My Lady.