Forever My Love

We were so young. Your departure was sudden, a moment that shattered time. You left to get a spare part for your other bike, which you were repairing and never returned. In the aftermath, I wasn’t allowed to mourn you. My family and yours didn’t know how to make space for my grief. To them, I was just a girlfriend, a relationship our society didn’t acknowledge as deserving of mourning. Where we come from, people believe the best way to heal is to move on quickly, to avoid the permanent void left by someone who has passed. It was a harsh lesson I hadn’t known until I faced it. No one prepared us for grief like this – neither the church, youth groups, nor society. It wasn’t something people talked about openly, especially not with someone our age. Grief support didn’t exist for young hearts broken by loss. I carried the weight of my sadness alone for years. I suppressed it, tucked it away in places no one could see. Each time the ache resurfaced, I would try to write you a letter, but fear always stopped me. What if it fell into the wrong hands? What if my pain was misunderstood? Your family asked me to return all the pictures of you. Naive and obedient, I complied, never realizing the cost. If only I had kept just one photo. Now, all I have is the picture of you etched in my mind – a picture that hasn’t aged, where your smile remains as radiant as ever. It’s now close to 25 years. Twenty-five long years, and I still wish you could visit me, even if only for a moment in a dream. Yet, amidst the loss, I hold on to one part of you: your love for biking. I’ve joined the motorbiking community in your honour. Though it took you from me, riding makes me feel closer to your spirit, as if I carry a piece of you with me on every journey. I chose to remain anonymous to protect everyone in my life, including you, my family, and your family, but I am grateful that I finally have a safer space to connect with you. Every year, I still light a candle in my heart on your passing date, February 4th. It’s my quiet tribute to the light you were, and still are, in my life. Writing this has been a journey in itself. At first, the tears came, and I couldn’t finish a sentence. But now, as I reach the end, I find myself smiling because your memory, smile, and essence still bring light to my life. You may be gone, but you’re forever a part of me.