When Love Leaves Evidence

Memories are the places we return to

long after someone is no longer here.

They outlive goodbye.

They outlast choice, distance, and death.

They are the only thing that can carry a voice

across time,

the only way a laugh can still find us

when the room is quiet.

A memory takes you back

without asking permission.

It brings back the weight of a hand you once held,

the exact sound of their voice,

the way they looked at you

when no one else was watching.

And somehow,

even when everything else is gone,

that stays.

Memories are not fragile.

They are generous.

They keep giving long after the person

who gave them is gone.

They are made in ordinary moments

shared glances, inside jokes,

late-night conversations,

secrets trusted and held with care.

They are built quietly,

without us realizing

we are making something permanent.

Maybe that is the point.

That love leaves evidence.

That time well spent becomes something tangible

when there is nothing left to reach for.

Our memories are our gift to the people we love,

and theirs to us,

something neither time nor absence can take away.

So make more of them.

Now.

While you still can.

Stay longer.

Laugh harder.

Choose presence over hurry.

And hold tightly to the memories you already have,

because they are beautiful,

and they are wonderful,

and they will one day be

what carries you forward

when you can no longer go back.

xo

Gabby