The wind blows my hair. I’m standing on the edge again, looking out over the sea. In my mouth rises a salty taste. I’m crying.

This place is so special to me, to us. But now there is no us.

It still feels like yesterday we were standing on top of this cliff together. My head resting on your shoulder, your arm wrapped my shoulder. I was crying then too. How I wish it was yesterday, but the reality couldn’t be further from it.

Two years ago, we went on a trip to Italy. To the same place I’m standing right now. This beautiful hike through quaint villages and along the cliffs. And right here, you pulled at my hand, you had stopped walking. The closest town still a few miles away. Nobody would see us here. I looked over my shoulder and was met with your beautiful but nervous face.

You reached for my other hand. I turned to face you and placed my hand in yours. This is where you went down on one knee and gave the best speech of your life. This is where I said yes, with my whole heart. And this is where I stand now, with my heart shattered into a million pieces.

After the proposal we stood right here, soaking in the last bit of sunlight and enjoying the sunset. No sounds other than waves hitting the rocks and birds settling in for the night. And now it’s dead silent, apart from a slight breeze. Not even the waves are audible.

I try my hardest to remember every little detail of that day. The way your hair tickled my bare shoulder. How the scent of your perfume had faded throughout the day. How cool your fingers felt on my arm. And now, nothing but the scents of nature and the feeling of my jacket because of the cool breeze.

What I didn’t know then is that I would come to cherish this day most of all. Because, you didn’t make it to our wedding day.

Just weeks after our trip, we went to the hospital. And we got the worst news. Life expectanty? 14 months. By some miracle you made it another 6. Instead of the big wedding day that we wanted, just a small courthouse ceremony. “Till death do us apart.”

We made the most of the time that we got. And when we got the news on the extra months we got together, we wanted to plan a wedding day. But alas, we were too optimistic. Days before the big day you took a turn for the worse. And instead of our families getting together to celebrate us, we celebrated you.

I tried to mourn you, every way I can. I tried to move on, like you asked me to. But I couldn’t. When you left, you took all of the light of my life with you. And in one last attempt to stop myself from drowning in the grief, I came here. Hoping it would make me feel better, feel lighter. But instead, I feel heavier than ever.

Till death do us apart. And in death, we small meet again.