:: 𝙊𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝟭𝟮, 𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟱.

My dearest Valentin, Something I've heard and honestly kept it very close to heart, was that grief is unable to exist if there is no love, and love is unable to exist if there is no grief. It makes more sense now, now that I understand how it feels to lose something, someone, that you love so much—that losing them makes your heart ache and your stomach turn while it feels like your throat is closed, and then there's those unsaid words curling up in the corner of your eyes and streaming down your face, leaving you puffy eyed and with this feeling that a part of your soul is missing and your heart completely shattered. That's how losing you makes me feel, everytime. Each time I remember you're no longer here, each time I notice how alike your son is to you, and especially—each time I think about how loved you were and how young you were the last time you closed your eyes for eternity. It isn't fair, death is not fair, it has never been, it will never be, to it, it doesn't matter the whole life you had ahead of you and the bright future your soul held, even how much you mattered to the people around you and the ones far away, who cared for you so deeply in their own way. It's like losing you made me go mad, I wouldn't be like this. No, not with you here, a part of me feels such profound guilt that I can't help but feel complete sorrow, as if it was me that caused your passing—and its stupid, it's dumb, because I know it wasn't, I was so young when you gave your last blow, and it makes me wonder.. if I was older, if I wasn't just a child with no knowledge whatsoever of who you were, would I still be as heartbroken as I am today? And most importantly, would I be able to love you for long without any mourning? To love without this yearning—this pain and longing, to love you openly. I love you, I love you so so so much, perhaps that's why it hurts, and honestly, you're worth it. You're worth the pain, you are worth a million wounds, I grieve you and the life you could of had, but this sadness wouldn't come if I didn't love you this much, so again—You are worth it. If I could go back in time but knowing that this pain, this ache and everlasting grief would happen, I would still choose to love you regardless, I would do it over and over again, no matter how many times, but I would do it. And I would do it proud, because how lucky am I to love something that makes me hurt this deeply? How lucky am I to get to miss you, to get to know you as you were? If you knew how much I adore you still, I doubt you would wish for me to live in regret, so I try to live my life to the fullest, living in bittersweet happiness for as much as grief allows me to. It's bittersweet, it is because loving and missing you means crying even in happy moments—wishing you were alive to experience them. Despite how much I try to enjoy my life, I wont even feel full again, because you were part of me, and now there is a fluke shaped void engraved deep in my being, my soul, my heart, it's like half of me is missing, even if I feel like this, even if I curse the damn gods if they are even real for taking you away from me when I didn't even have the time to love you properly—What is this sadness? What is this grief if not love preserving? I think it's okay. It's okay to cry randomly at something that reminds me of you for life, it means that despite you not being here physically, it means you're still everywhere. I didnt think this would ever cease, and I still don't. I didnt think that I'd ever stop being this mad at the world, at everyone because of the absence of you, and I'm unable to, I know I won't ever, but it's not really anger. "I sat with my anger long enough until she told me her real name was grief" it is what it is. Grief is messy, it's angry even, maybe that's why I feel like this, but if I know one thing—where there is such dirt, deep down there is pure, innocent love. I know this because it happens to me when it comes to you, I know this because I love you in the purest way I possibly can, because you deserve to be loved like this, even after death, you deserve to be loved out loud, even if now ill have to remember you for longer than you lived. 11 years now, and yet I still haven't learned to live without you, and I honestly never want to, I understand that maybe, just maybe—one day I'll learn how to live without you, but for now, to grieve you is to love you, no matter how odd this seems. Love you always Until we meet again, I'll see you on the other side. credits later.