I wanted you to hold my right hand when she held my left one and helped me cross the road. I was old enough to do that but that sense of security would have felt nice. Your warmth felt nice. But feeling the cold was something different, something that helped me mature and accept truth. Truth in the most harshest form. There was no escaping it. It was easy to run away temporarily but how far can one run? You get tired also...Like you did. But you fought well. It was a tough battle, wasn't it? I wonder what you can see where you are. I wonder if there was a way that you could show me. I wonder if I'll meet you again. But the thought scares me. I have to be strong for you, don't I? For them. For the ones who feel the vacuum every day. Every living breath. Every hard bitter feeling dissolves away when I see beyond the petty fights, the useless arguments, the brutality of the life without you. I miss you but I know you are safe. Safer than where I am at least...