I don't care about the dates and numbers anymore. They have less and less importance as I am growing older. Other things are becoming priorities. But I won't forget the day you left us. I will remember that date as long as there is a spark of sanity left in me. I miss you, Marcel. *** The more I get into the depth of your character and dive into the sea of kindness with which you abound, the harder for me is everything I have done to sin against you. Everything I denied you. Forgive me. Forgive me. It was a beautiful day last week. I think it was Friday. The sun warmed like no other day of the year. There was a pleasant wind, and the scents of flowers and sprouted grass rose from the ground. I thought I would pick fresh green grass for you as soon as it grew a little more. I thought I'd surprise you with this gift. But I will never give it to you, love, and that makes me feel like garbage. If I had known. If I had only sensed—if I had wanted to admit to myself!—you could have tasted the first grass of this spring, no matter how short and unripe its leaves were. But I was a coward and ran from reality! I stole from you the last touch of just-awakened nature, because not even the trees had fully bloomed yet. *** In Memoriam Marcel April 19, 2006–April 19, 2020 A World Without Color, the true story of our last three days together, still lives on Amazon as an eBook and paperback. Waiting for the world to read about you. BJ Original post: https://www.bernardjan.com/post/15-years-without-you
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