I See You

I see you.

I know you think I’m gone, that I’m somewhere far away where I can’t reach you anymore.

But I’m here.

Not the way I used to be—I can’t hold you or call you or show up at your door.

But I’m here.

I see you trying.

I see you getting up every morning even when it feels impossible.

I see you forcing yourself through the day, through the motions, through the moments that used to be ours.

I see you crying in the car.

At the grocery store. At 2AM when you can’t sleep.

I see the way you reach for your phone to text me and then remember.

I see how hard this is.

And I wish I could tell you it’s okay. That you’re doing better than you think. That I’m not mad you’re struggling or disappointed you’re not “moving on” fast enough.

I’m proud of you.

For still being here. For still showing up. For carrying this weight even when it feels like too much.

I know you miss me. I miss you too. More than I can explain.

I miss your laugh. Your voice. The way you’d tell me about your day.

I miss being there for the big stuff and the small stuff and everything in between.

But I need you to know something: I’m okay. I’m not in pain anymore. I’m not scared. I’m not struggling.

Whatever you’re worried about for me—let it go.

I’m okay.

And I need you to be okay too.

Not right now.

Not tomorrow.

But eventually.

I need you to live. Really live. Not just survive. Not just exist. Live.

Say yes to things. Take chances. Love people. Laugh without feeling guilty. Be happy without feeling like you’re betraying me.

Because you’re not. You could never.

Your happiness doesn’t erase me. Your joy doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten. Living your life fully isn’t moving on—it’s honoring what we had by not letting it destroy you.

I don’t want you stuck in the grief forever.

I don’t want you putting your life on hold waiting for a reunion.

I want you to be here while you’re here. To squeeze every bit of good out of the time you have left.

Because one day—when you’ve lived and loved and done everything you’re meant to do—you’ll find me again.

And I’ll be right here. Waiting.

With that same smile.

That same love.

And it will feel like no time passed at all.

But until then?

Live for both of us.

I love you.

I always will.

And I’m so damn proud of you for still standing.

If these words connected with you, you’ll find many more like them in What Remains. It’s a collection of the writings I’ve shared over the years, bringing together reflections on grief, love, loss, and the connections that continue long after someone is gone.

I hope it brings you comfort, understanding, and the reminder that you’re not alone.

If you’d like to read more, you can find the book here

Available now on Amazon