And all I can think about are all the things he’ll never do.
He’ll never smell the earth after a highveld rainstorm. Or watch jacaranda petals drift lazily to the ground.
He’ll never wear those hats he wore, or smile that smile he smiled.
He won’t grow old.
He won’t find one person to love and be with for the rest of his days.
He won’t feel the sun on his skin.
He’s gone and so are all the possibilities. All the places he could have visited, all the things he could have seen.
I hope there is peace where he is. And the happiness he was seeking.
He’s gone and he didn’t have to be.