I tend to wonder if good things ever happen to good people.
Because these past few days I have witnessed you crumble apart and disintegrate in the palm of my sweaty hands. And I grasped your remains, believing that if I squeezed the ashes hard enough, you would miraculously reappear as a coherent whole again. But the ashes slipped through the cracks of my fingers and sunk into my veins. Now you are a part of me, swimming through my blood, just like you used to in our pool in the backyard. And I am secure. As long as I am somewhere with you, I am secure.