To my one and only,

My heart:

Iris.

I saw your face in the sky today.

The clouds laughed as they frolicked with the sun and the birds and the wind. The sky giggled when bees made a home in the hollow trunk of an old spruce. Its leaves were a vibrant, inviting green. The same as your eyes.

I miss them.

I miss you.

Day has fallen to night, and all I can focus on is your lacking presence on the left side of the bed. Your spot.

It still sits uninhabited. Faint remnants of your perfume linger in the pillows. I'm holding one to my chest as I write this. Your smell-- it's familiar. It helps me breathe when my lungs fester with violent pleas. When I'm forced to choke on the dreams that should've been.

I cherish you deeply in moments like this.

I haven't been able to empty your dressers or your closets. Your favorite dress is still hanging on the back of the wooden chair. You know which one. You always said that piece of furniture acted more as a coat rack than it did an actual seat.

Oh dear, oh dear-- forgive me, darling. My vision is blurring and the paper is getting wet. I need a moment.

*

Your gown. It stares at me. Those sunflower patterns stare at me with the eyes of a thousand fireflies. Even in darkness, that dress lights up the whole room. I don't even need to touch the soft fabric to know how it feels.

A portion of the breast pocket is still stained from when you were making tea-- and you spilled a bit of honey. You spent ages and ages trying to get the stain out, but to no avail. It remained. And became part of your identity whenever you wore that dress. Honey. Sweet, sweet honey. Its color was similar to the sunflowers. The only reason it actually left a mark was because you didn't notice the small dollop right away. It soaked in. It became a piece of your life.

Our lives.

Look at me, getting trapped in the clutches of nostalgia. It's kiss makes me feel warm. Makes me feel like you're still here.

I wish you were.

It's confusing sometimes. My heart-- it aches. It's bleeding, my love. Each beat makes it rip apart even further. But for some reason, that helps me push on. This pain-- it lies with me every night. And wakes with me every day. I'm never given a true moment of reprieve. It does lessen though, when little parts of you are seen throughout the house.

Your hairbrush and makeup tools are still out. Brushes stained with concealer. Capped lipstick. The palette for your eyeshadow. The one that's missing the blue, turquoise, and magenta tones.

I accidentally bumped into the spotty mirror in front of your things. A bottle of powder tipped over. The mess wasn't big. I didn't have it in me to clean it up.

I'm not ready to start washing away these traces of you.

The moon is pretty tonight. I told the stars about you. They listen to me when my mind starts to wander and when I can't control the things that I say. They don't judge me as I weep. They don't judge me as I scream. They don't judge me as I call out your name. They simply watch. The stars-- they don't speak. They just watch. It's comforting. Those glimmering balls of gas-- they're beautiful. But they don't compare to the radiance of your smile.

I can see it now as you look down at me.

I'm so sorry. For not knowing what to do when the doctors said you were dying. For not knowing what to do when you were so sick, you couldn't eat. For not knowing what to do when you were confined to the bed. For not knowing what to do when-- when you needed me. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to say. All I did know... was that I couldn't handle it.

I never wanted to leave you alone. I never wanted to abandon you. I'm sorry if you felt like I did. I just-- I couldn't handle watching as you deteriorated. Whenever I looked at you, I saw your life drifting away. I saw your fight leaving. You were stronger than me for putting on a brave face when waiting for Death. I didn't have that courage. All I had was fear. It was what kept me away in your final moments.

I didn't know what to do when I found you lying in bed. You weren't breathing. You weren't moving. There was just nothing. And I-

God, darling, I can't control these burning sobs. One more moment please. I promise I won't take long.

*

The crickets are singing right now. I can hear it with the rustling of the leaves. It smells of flowers. I've been doing my best to take care of your garden outside of the bedroom window. The daisies-- they aren't thriving as well since you stopped caring for them, but they're living as best as they can. Suppose we have that in common. And I suppose I just don't have the green thumb you did. That's all right. Not everything has to be perfect.

I have some tea beside me. Your dress made me want a cup. There's too much honey in it, but I don't mind. It gives me a semblance of delicate happiness in these trying times. I also have a pack of those biscotti cookies that you loved. I've-- I've come around to them. They taste like home.

Like simpler times.

You'd yell at me if you saw the state of our bedroom. It's so messy. Everything's become cluttered.

I can't fold as good as you did. My shirts are full of wrinkles and my pants are creased. I've lost some of my socks-- it's unclear where they went. Maybe the washing machine ate them? Or maybe the drier? Perhaps I've just gotten careless.

Forgive me for that. Forgive me if I've drifted.

My feelings, my thoughts-- everything is whirling around. Like snow. There's a blizzard in this bedroom, darling. How can it be freezing and blazing at the same time?

Please come back. I need you. I miss you. I miss you. IMISSYOU-

I'm breathing. Taking deep breaths like you told me I should. I'm doing my best to hold it together, my love. I really am. It just gets a little hard sometimes. All the time, I mean.

My tea's gone cold.

I'm really not the best at this, am I? Here I was, ready to tell you all of the things I couldn't before; but all I've done is ramble about... everything. Life is like a jigsaw puzzle, and I'm missing the last piece. My picture isn't whole anymore. It never will be. Not without you.

I love you so much. I miss you so much.

I wish I could have at least one more day with you. I'd make those twenty four hours last forever. I'd-- I'd give you everything that I could if you were here with me again.

Suppose I'll just have to wait until I meet you up there. 

It'll probably take some time. I may be getting older, but I still have a few more years left in me. I still want to honor who you were while I'm still walking-- breathing-- on this Earth. You deserve that much. 

I love you just as much in death as I did in life. Maybe even more so. You hold my heart in your hands. Please-- cradle it with care while you sit on your perch above me. 

Hold it close. Keep it warm. 

Because I'm doing the same for you.

Forever Yours,

Jensen