When My Love Died Poem by Natasa To

When My Love Died

When my love died,
the world did not stop—
and somehow that was the cruelest part.

Morning still found the windows.
Cars still passed beneath the trees.
People still laughed
as if laughter had not become
a language I could no longer speak.

I kept reaching for you
in all the places you used to be—
the empty side of the bed,
the chair by the door,
the quiet space beside me
where your hand once found mine.

They told me time would soften it.
But time only taught me
how to carry the ache
without dropping it.

I still talk to you sometimes,
when no one is listening.
I tell you about my day.
I tell you what I wish I'd said.
I tell you I love you
in the only way I can now—
by remembering.

And sometimes,
in the hush before sleep,
I swear I can almost feel you there.

Then morning comes,
and I remember.

You are gone.

But love is strange that way—
death can take a heartbeat,
a voice,
a pair of hands,

but it cannot take
what you left behind in me.

So I will carry you.

Not because it hurts less,
but because loving you
was the most beautiful thing
I ever knew.

And when my own time comes,
I hope somewhere beyond this life
you'll be waiting,

and I'll finally get
to say hello
instead of goodbye.