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(3/3) “This time of year always makes me sad because we met at Christmastime and fell in love that winter. He drove a yellow cab during the day, and if I ever called, he’d drop everything and drive to Westchester to see me. I have so many memories of his cab pulling up in a snowstorm. I haven’t changed anything in the apartment since he died. For the longest time I couldn’t even sleep in our bed. I laid a mat on the floor. I don’t cook the foods that he liked anymore. I try to avoid the streets that we walked down together. I used to write letters to him, but that made me too sad. So now I just light an incense on the piano every morning.”

A post shared by Humans of New York (@humansofny) on Nov 30, 2015 at 4:14pm PST

Lately, I’ve learned more and more about the four letter word. How it has a will of its own. How it sometimes takes over everything. How it makes you feel what the people it attaches you to feels.

Love, it lives. Even after we die.

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