His room stayed exactly the same, as if waiting for him to come back. Every year on his birthday, I baked a small cake and lit a candle, even though he wasn’t there.
It was the only way I knew how to keep loving him.
Time passes, but love remains
Years went by. I learned to live with the silence, but never with the emptiness. Eventually, I convinced myself I might never see him again—just to protect my heart from hoping.
Then one day, there was a knock at the door.
When I opened it, he was standing there.
Older. Taller. But with the same eyes.
In an instant, all those lost years disappeared. He wrapped his arms around me and broke down in tears, as if releasing everything he had held inside for so long.
And then he told me something I will never forget:
He had thought about me every single day.
