I twist my brain in different directions, an attempt to make sense of the tragedy that befell upon you, upon us. A rope, already twisted and tangled, a feat to straighten it out that you also took onto your shoulders, when they were already bearing the weight of your own world. In a moment, you were gone. Spirited away into another dimension, occupying the space that Mother universe has provided you, us. Though I cannot touch your rough hands and soft hair, many time has come where I feel you surrounding me, embracing me with your warmth as you once did, an inner warmth inexplicable to those who do not experience such separation as we. When I close my eyes at night and my soul begins to wake, I see you. I see your eyes filling me with adoration and power. I hear you, your soft, gentle reassurance that I am well, I am making you proud. I can smell you, morning after cologne pulsating from your neck, radiating from the t-shirt you wore to bed. I can taste you, the savory sweetness of cold beer on your lips from your first sip in the kitchen. I have lived with you in my soul six times since you slipped away, and for that, I am thankful. Many are fortunate to experience physical love, yet I know few who are as privileged as we to experience love in an intangible form, a spiritual awakening of worldly affection and devotion that transcribes to a mere dream. Yet, you are as vivid as the day you left for the last time. The knots are releasing, the twists and turns loosening their grip over me. I am, at last, able to make sense of our new life, and lack thereof. A new beginning. My new direction.