I miss you today.

I missed you yesterday too.

It’s been 15 months, and each day, the pain is the same.

Saudade.

I say this word again and again. What once was my favorite word in Portuguese has become a slogan for the pain I feel of missing what once was.

Saudade. What a beautiful, gut-wrenching, tormenting description of love and loss.

I’ll write it once more.

I miss you.

I miss your smile.

I miss our talks.

I miss being seen.

You meant so much to me and left too soon.

I had more to tell you, but you’re gone.

I guess I’ll write to the world instead.

Maybe one day you’ll find this.

Maybe you never will.

It doesn’t matter I guess. You’re gone after all.

I never told you, but I loved you like a mom.

You were my therapist, but in my heart, you were my mom.

Maybe in reality this can never be true, but in my mind, anything is possible.

I miss you every day.

Maybe it doesn’t make sense to mourn a therapist this way.

What if I told the world though, that you were my mom?

Then they would understand.

You left too early.

I miss you, mom. I really miss you.

~