Hi, gorgeous.

The awareness of how long its been since I saw you is inescapable. Eight months ago, around the time I'm typing this, I was getting a call from a number I didn't recognize while I was supposed to be listening to a training call covering processes for peak season. I'd never heard the actual homeowner's voice before since we worked with a property manager, and the first time hearing it was him asking if I was alright and about the fire. I had no idea what he was talking about, and I called you immediately after I got off the phone with him. It went right to voicemail and my heart sank. I ran home, hoping that this wasn't bad, that maybe something just caught fire in the neighborhood and your phone wasn't charged before you had to get out. I was already in shock when I saw what was left of the house at that point still actively in flames. All I wanted was to find you, and no one would tell me where you were. I wanted to see you, Merlin, and Morgan, and know that we were all going to be alright even though our home was burning down because we were all still together. I didn't want to imagine the world I was looking at was real in those moments, because I was already suspecting why no one would tell me where you were even when I kept asking. You were gone before I even got the phone call.

There are so many holes and voids left now that you're gone, gorgeous. I still go back to where our home used to be and see that empty hole in a row of townhouses, flanked by the other two still standing damaged after that night. There's a lonely void left over where the love for you and our little gremlins once flowed. The void in my chest serves as a constant reminder of how broken I feel now; like the heart that once used to house passions, joys, and rages just isn't in it any longer. I'm still in therapy trying to work through everything, and while working through an exercise with her last week I got the mental image of our time in Myrtle Beach a couple years ago. It was one of the only real vacations we got to take together, and all I wanted was to have a suite as high up as we could so we could look out over the ocean at night. I still see that image now: high up over the landscape on the balcony, the moon reflecting off the water. It's different now, though; I see it in monochrome, frozen, and the ocean below the inky black void I'll be carrying with me from now on. Grief, my new constant companion.

I'm tired, Madelaine. It feels laughable when I hear my therapist tell me how "strong" I'm being through all of this knowing how I actually feel (or don't feel, most of the time.) I just want you.

I played through Shadowbringers in Final Fantasy again recently, and at the end I sat in Amaurot remembering how much you enjoyed the story and specifically Emet Selch. So much of everything feels so different now, but the "Remember us" scene hit me specifically hard this time around, like I was hearing it from you in that moment. I've been taking a bit of a break after the section with my favorite Ascian character, but I plan on continuing to play through again remembering the fun we had.

I'm going to keep moving forward, gorgeous. As best I can, at least. I'll probably get Bento House for dinner tonight and think about that last evening together eight months ago. I'll think about your smile, how eager we were to start our week off work together for your birthday. I'll think about the way your eyes always lit up when I told you I love you.

I love you, Madelaine. I miss you so much.

-Will

"The rains have ceased, and we have been graced with another beautiful day. But you are not here to see it."