I look at her and she reminds me so much of you. I know that she is another, but I like her not because of herself, but because of you. She looks into my eyes and find me staring at her all the time. Sometimes she asks me, why do you stare at me all the time? I am right here next to you, but you look at me as if you are seeing me for the first time, all the time!
I look at her and I hear you asking me to stop staring at you. I look at her and hear you asking me to grow up.
For her to live, independent of you, I have to let go of a part of me that lives with you. And whenever I have tried doing that, I have discovered that in losing you, I lose most of myself too. And whenever I have tried doing that, I have found in me a stranger who goes by some other name. I cannot have another name, for I have not answered to any other name than the one by which you called me, the last time you called me.
Death may not bring a closure to that which this life could not sustain.