We are all the universe expressing itself as a human for a moment, right? How can a piece of something truly be gone? Missing, yes. But gone? Impossible. Whenever I lost a toy as a child, I imagined that toy knew exactly where it was, and it was just waiting for me to find it. It wasn't scared. Maybe a titch sad because it wanted me to find it, but it was never scared. That's a bit like how I imagine Vi. She knows where she is. She isn't scared. She's sad, not as unbearably sad as me though. She wants to be with me, and she's sad that we are all so sad without her here. But, she isn't scared. She's just waiting. Waiting for me to find her. Grief is a horrifically beautiful thing. It is your soul, your very essence, screaming, pleading, begging for it's missing piece back. It is the embodiment of love itself. Painful, excruciatingly beautiful love.
My sweet girl. I wish you were here. So much. I wish so much more than all the words in all the universe could ever come close to explaining. You are missing from me, you are not gone. But, your abscense is so obvious. It isn't fair. It isn't right. I hate it with the passion of an infinite amount of Suns. I hate it so much it takes my breath away. It's a wonder I'm still breathing. I miss you isn't enough, but it's all I have. I miss you my darling beautiful girl. I miss you. Wait for me, let's go to the stars.