I realised I had lost it in September. I didn't find it until December, by which time she had already gone. She left a hole in my life which over the months frayed away at the edges until there was little else left. I was defined by the lack of her. I slept huddled on one side of the bed; my dreams as painfully full of her as her side of the bed was painfully empty.
It was a bitterly cold day in February when I decided that I could no longer bear the husk that remained of my life. Without her I was nothing. I drove the hundred miles to the place we shared our last kiss; the place she now laid. I stood in the darkness, my breath freezing in the cold night air. As I pushed down on the shovel, breaking the frosty ground, I smiled. "I'm coming, my love. I'm coming."