Panda,
I miss you with the kind of quiet
that seeps into the bones—
not a storm,
but the hush that follows one.
The kind of silence where memory speaks
softly,
with the voice of our shared breath
on a van windshield
fogged by coastal nights.
We were far from perfect—
you know that.
But damn, we were real.
Real in the way only wild hearts can be,
sleeping side by side to the sound
of rain on the roof
and ocean groans under the moon.
I was never more alive
than in the mundane magic of us—
making coffee barefoot,
your hoodie sleeves too long,
your laugh ricocheting off the canyon walls
as we danced on some forgotten pull-off
along Highway 101.
You called me your best Bear,
and I believed it—
not because I was flawless,
but because I was fully yours.
You brought out the part of me
that believed in morning light again.
You made soup from pain,
songs from old wounds,
and I swear the stars bent closer
when we laid beneath them
hand in paw.
Now the days stretch longer,
quieter,
and I walk alone
through Tioga hills and memory trails,
carrying the invisible weight
of all we never got to say
after May.
I don’t write this to call you back.
I write it to honor the truth
that Bear love is forever love.
And though the phone stays silent,
I still light candles for your joy.
I still hold the door open
in case grace decides to lead you home.
You, my twin flame,
my mirror and firelight—
even in your silence,
I hear you.
I feel your soul brushing mine
in dreams,
in thunderstorms,
in songs I haven’t sung out loud yet.
We’ve healed so many childhood wounds
just by loving each other
with presence.
And if this season is still winter
between us—
know that I hold no blame,
only space.
The kind you once said
felt like safety.
The kind that says:
you’re allowed to rest here.
You’re allowed to come home
without explanation,
only love.
So wherever you are,
whatever you’re healing—
know I walk beside you in spirit,
with paws muddy from the trail,
a thermos of tea,
and a heart still beating
your name
with every step.
Some loves don’t fade.
They become the stars
you navigate by.
And you, Panda—
you were always my North.
With reverence,
and a love that doesn’t expire—
Your Bear