it occurred to me yesterday that a full day had passed, in which i did not think about her. it troubled me. had i forgotten her? was this the slow beginning of a spiral into the ether where people left secret smiles on the faces of their beloved and then disappeared? but then i remembered that death can be a good thing. i tried to be very happy for her that she had finally found release and slipped free from all the pain that had caged her into herself for so long. but the truth is that i miss her very deeply, and that she had also slipped free from me, so quietly away into the evening humidity. i have now not known her for as many years as i have known her — her real, full, true, beautiful self who walked and talked, and sometimes laughed, and twice cried. this thing about the years is a fact that i find quite unfair. it is quite like art class in primary school, when we would paint half of an art block and fold the paper in two, to make a butterfly print: is the second half of the whole butterfly even real? did i only get twelve years or did i get twenty four? also, my memory is fading and sometimes i can’t remember if i’d held her left or right hand as we crossed the street to go to the market. and sometimes i feel that she went through so much suffering that there can’t possibly be anymore of it left in this world. i do wish she was here with me to experience this world without suffering… she is the only person i have ever met whom i have loved unconditionally. i can only hope that when she passed, she remembered me, my name and my face.