As the days grow shorter and the air gains a crisp edge, I find myself counting down to what would have been our seventh anniversary. There’s an excitement in the nostalgia, a bittersweet yearning to retrace the steps of our early days together. I’ve decided that this year, I’m going to revisit some of the places that became markers of our story—those seemingly ordinary spots that became extraordinary in the glow of our shared moments.
I know I won’t be able to cover every memory, every corner of the past, but I’m determined to visit the ones that matter most. The store where we found that perfect jewelry box, for instance, a simple trinket that still holds echoes of laughter and love. I’d love to locate the pharmacy where we shared an impulsive, carefree moment, stealing kisses in the back of my car, wrapped up in the heat of new love. And of course, there’s the place where we first kissed—a spot that seemed to make time stop—and the bed and breakfast where we first became vulnerable and real with each other, leaving no barriers between us.
This journey isn’t just a one-time pilgrimage. It’s something I want to make part of my life, a way to honor you and the profound role you played in shaping me. I want to capture the spirit of who we were, and who you were to me—someone who brought light, laughter, and adventure into my life. Visiting these places will be a way of preserving that, even if it’s just for myself.
And while I’m at it, I plan to take it further. This holiday season, I’m finally going to the Biltmore Estate, a place of grandeur and beauty we always dreamed of visiting together but never did. And next year, I’ll be heading back to Charleston, a city I wish I could have shared with you. I know in my heart that you would have fallen in love with its historic streets, ocean breezes, and hidden gems waiting to be discovered. It’s a trip we never took but always deserved.
These visits won’t fill the emptiness, but they will allow me to embrace it, to acknowledge the love that once was and the person you were—the person who transformed the mundane into magic. Maybe in doing so, I’ll find a sense of peace or, at the very least, moments of joy in reconnecting with pieces of our story.
For now, though, the day’s responsibilities call. There’s work to be done, and life, as always, moves forward. But even as I push through my daily routine, I hold onto that part of me that misses you, loves you, and honors your memory in the only way I know how—by living, remembering, and revisiting the story that was ours.