I was standing at your grave with Judith, my little sister, hand in hand with her. She was only 7, but she knew you weren't coming back, you were like a mother to her. She was sobbing loudly. I wanted to breakdown as well, but I stayed strong for her.

Your grave was beautiful, just like you. Flowers scattered across it, along with your signature machete. The grave stone a piece of cement that Daryl carved out by hand for you, your name carved into it. You were my girlfriend, my first and only.