you would have been twenty six

happy birthday loved one,

today you would have been twenty six

from this room i’m in as i write i look towards the sky and see the moon. we whisper to each other how much we miss one another’s voices, laughs, the imprint of your feet on the sand, because your ears and your feet are no longer around.

on the beach i remember that day you’d say, ‘you’re not allowed to step in any one else’s foot prints but mine’, laughing, as you ran in zig-zags, and falling to your knees as the waves would wash them away, ‘i guess you’re stuck here now!’

i wish in that moment i was, that i knew, so i could look at you for a minute longer.

i remember the way you’d wash the dishes in slow motion, using a single finger in circular motions in the soap, always meditating, always mesmerising. on the train on days we skipped class you’d sing and dance down the empty carriage.

you acted like you were the only one on earth, and whoever was with you felt that way too.

not only that, i think anyone who ever spent time alone with you, realised that if they were the only one on earth, they’d pick you to be there with them. you made people feel heard and seen.

you were always the one, without ever knowing it. you made everyone feel at home.

whenever either of us went away and our separate ways, i noticed that i’d count the days til i could see you again; that wherever i was felt like on the way to you.

you left us feeling quite empty, hollow and incomplete, when really we should be full of love because we got to meet. we’re all just glad that when it’s time you’ll still be waiting right there. i write about it, i laugh over it, i smile over it, i cry over it.

when the world peels back and all that’s left is peace, you’ll be standing at the door, saying how no time has passed and that we’re together once more.

but for now you’re in the ways the light streams in, the wind howls, the song that plays on the radio at the right time, the shade in the summer. i sense you reminding me of all the life i have yet to live, and that i better get to it, and that i better make it good.

you make me want to dance when i’m in an empty train carriage, you make me want to sing in the silence, you make me want to take my time washing the dishes, you make me want to run down every shoreline in the world.

you make me think you’re still out there somewhere.