sometimes I spend hours searching for his name on Google. trying to find my traces of his existence. photos I have yet to discover. quotes in articles he never told me about. stories of his full heart that were left like keepsakes for us to find. I comb through each of his Instagram photos, re-reading his jokes and looking at the world through his eyes. and then I look up, and I'm in the world again. and I remember words like 'suicide' and 'loss' and that I have to continue to exist in that world. and everything seems a bit numb after that.
