Dear Pearl,
how have you been? I have been fine, more or less. There are good days and bad days, fortunately today is a good day. I am beginning to write this diary to you to keep a small piece of you alive within these words. It's been approximately one year and 92 days around 4 hours since your passing. Time for me has slowed down considerably, since you aren't here next to me.
I began to write this to ease the pain of losing you. I am hiding your identity by naming you, 'Pearl'. Your most defining charm was your smile after all. Remember that night when we met for the first time at the local theater. It was so dark to see anything but the illuminated screen, but for me there was one other light in that pitch darkness. When I accidentally stepped on your toes and I apologized frantically, the only thing I could really see in your face was those pearly whites. I'm sorry if I'm taking too much time just reminiscing.
My therapist thought that if I could somehow imagined that you would read these somewhere, it might unburden my mind. And perhaps my soul. I miss you terribly. The weather reminds me of having you around more often than not. I used to remember how we used to hold hands in the cold to warm ourselves and perhaps brighten the day. Each day of cold winter brings so much more realization that you are no longer here. I look at your photos sometimes when I miss you the most. I can't seem to find my way. I begin to lose track of time when I look at your photos. Sometimes I lose myself in there. Almost reliving that precise moment when I took those photos. I smile at you and sometimes feel that you are smiling back.
We used to watch movies while resting comfortably in that couch, do you remember? Yeah that one couch in the corner. You would often start the movie before I could finish making popcorn. Those were the days when I could show you my smiles or frowns. While you grab your stomach and laugh at me. Nothing is the same anymore. That couch feels barren even when it's full of people.
Pearley, I'm beginning to lose myself. I sometimes feel that you are still here with me. Even though I clearly remember your funeral. I feel that best part of me is all but spent. My memories are starting to haunt me. Is there really any point of this life now that you are not part of it. I ask myself constantly. I tried so hard to start anew but your empty spot will haunt me to my death it seems. 92 days ago, your mother asked me if I wanted to go with her to your grave. I said no to her, but I went there by myself later. I sat next to your tombstone. Then I whispered all the things that I wanted you to know. There seems to have been a rain, because my shirt was so wet afterwards. I wanted to stay with you, but the coldness begin to sink in my skin, hair, and finally my whole body. I'm sorry for leaving you there.
There were many things I wanted to share with you. Things that I could not will be here for you later. I will start to open more of myself to you than I had in our time together. Please baby stay with me until the very end.
Your love,
Paku.
