One day I will wake, and she will no longer be there. Her body will remain, the quiet weight of bone and skin, but the life that once filled her will have gone. The room will still hold her last breath, suspended in still air, the final echo of something that can never return.

I will stand in the silence, unable to call her back, unable to change what has passed. The world will continue as if nothing has happened, yet everything will have changed.

And I will be left there, asking myself what I am meant to do now?

Or with the exact same loss maybe I will not be there.