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Returning from the cemetery, I stared at the picture I took of Jared just last month. I used to love that picture. I would wake up when he wasn't with me and lazily get out of bed. Making my way downstairs for breakfast, looking at it would be my morning fix before my coffee. It filled my heart with so much joy to look at it. It wasn't Jared in the flesh but it would do until I would see him later that day. Now, my eyes were transfixed on it.

There he stood, in front of the bar where he spent most of his nights. It would be the last picture he would ever pose for. I could feel my legs give way so I leaned against the fireplace for support. My eyes welled up with tears as I looked at my love. The drops streamed down my face, blinding my view. It didn't matter. I remembered every inch of it. He would be forever etched in my mind.

His hair was brushed back, his body fit and the bushy eyebrows I used to tease him about, were all reminders of what I would never see again. The white shirt almost off him, he looked like he would be removing his pants next.

My mind couldn't help wandering to happier times we spent together. I met him while I worked as a waitress at the local coffee shop, to earn money for my education. I was studying business and Jared was studying me. That first time he smiled at me, his lips were curled up and his pearly whites were in plain view. That first kiss he planted on my ...

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