That fear, the panic in your eyes. They are still in my head. I cannot forget that look, the thought of it hurts me deeply. Saying goodbye to you that day still breaks my heart, that desperate gaze, the question: what is happening to me? I held your hand and stroked you. After years of distance, I was close to you again. I wanted to be by your side, my heart was breaking. The next day you were gone, before I could reach you to say a final farewell. Your body marked by your illness, left there cold! I stroked your head and told you how much I loved you. It still hurts so much when I think of that last image of you. All dressed up, a candle burning, the window opened so you could move on. For the final moment, I arrived just a few minutes too late; self-reproach hit me because the day before I had the thought of going to see you, but didn't do it. I hope you are still proud of me and know how much I miss you. I miss you.
