Dried cobbler

The last night we were together he was feeling ill and not eating. We were going to make dried cobbler for dessert. H asked for it after getting in the tent, as he said he was feeling better. We thought it was a bad idea and gave him a little yogurt instead. He liked the yogurt, but he never got to eat that cobbler. I am sure he would have loved it and enjoyed it to the fullest. He was always ready to turn on that joy switch and bathe us with his happiness, it was what made him so wonderful to hang out with. I so wish we had had one last meal together. And of course many more of them together. I miss his face and laugh and energy. The world is darker without him.

I would say I miss him, but those words are so inadequate as to be useless. I suppose one might say I pine for him, but this reminds me that he was cremated in a plain pine box. I ache for him, I yearn for him, I crave him. It is a frustration like I have never known.