In Remembrance of Ryan William Younger

Ryan was my home. Not a house or a place, him. He was where I felt safe in a world that never really felt safe. Every time he wrapped his arms around me, everything in me finally went quiet. His hugs were strong and warm, like he was holding me together when I couldn’t hold myself. I still remember the way his chest felt against my face, the sound of his heartbeat, the way the world just stopped for a second. I miss that so much. He was quiet and steady, the kind of person whose presence said more than words ever could. Being around him made everything feel calmer, softer. He had this gentle way of moving through the world that made me feel grounded, no matter how bad things got. He didn’t need to say much, I just always knew I was safe with him. We didn’t have a big social life, and honestly, we liked it that way. It was just us, our three dogs, and our little bubble. That was enough. Home was our safe space, lazy nights in bed, watching anime, talking about nothing, or just being quiet together. That was our life, and it was everything I needed. He was everything I needed. Ryan went through so much. His body was failing him, and no one could tell us why. I watched him lose weight, strength, hope, and still, he kept going. Still, he tried. I’d do anything to have taken that pain from him. I took care of him the best I could, and I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. No hesitation. He was stronger than anyone gave him credit for. Even when it was bad, he’d still find little ways to make sure I was okay. I think that’s who he was at his core, someone who loved deeply, even when he was breaking. I hope he knows that I saw it. I saw every part of his fight, every moment he kept pushing forward when it must have felt impossible. I wish you could’ve seen yourself the way I did. I wish I could’ve told you one more time how proud I was of you, how grateful I was for every day we had, how much I loved you. You were my person. You still are. Ryan might not have been known by the world, but he changed mine completely. He made me better. He taught me what real love felt like. I catch myself doing things the way we did them, because that love never really left. The bed still has an indention where he slept for almost 9 years. His side of the room feels different. The house is quiet now, too quiet, but that quiet holds pieces of him. His warmth, his love, his energy, it’s all still here, tucked into every corner. He deserves to be remembered for the good parts. This world didn’t always make space for him, but I hope this does. I hope it helps people see how much he mattered, because he did. He mattered more than words can say. You’ll always be my home, Ryan. My best friend. My family. My love. I’ll carry you with me for the rest of my life, through every moonlit night, every moment that reminds me of you.

-Goodbye, my love.

I hope I’ll see you again someday.