Someday I won't be here and I'll exist only in your memory. You'll be here, surviving, picking up the pieces of everything I left behind. You'll remain stoic, with your head held high, as you remind yourself to stay strong. You'll be sad as grief dehisces your delicate wounds each time they begin to close. But eventually you'll move on, and that'll be okay... Knowing we'll meet again in the end someday.
