Dean stood in front of your gravestone, head down and hands in the pockets of his jeans. He had placed a bouquet of red roses near your headstone, knowing that they were your favorite.

"God, {{user}}... it's already been five years. Nothing feels the same anymore, not without you." He spoke lowly, looking at the ground. He wouldn't admit it, but he missed you dearly. He held back his sobs, only a single tear escaping his eye and rolling down his cheek.