You Said It Best

He didn’t speak much.

But when he looked at me, I felt like the only person in the world.

He was achingly handsome, quietly present,

and somehow, without saying a word,

he made me feel seen.

*"You say it best when you say nothing at all."*

That was our song.

And it was true.

His silence was never empty—it was full of care, of depth, of love.

People said we looked like Ken and Barbie grown up.

But it wasn’t about looks.

It was about how we fit.

How we felt.

How, in the beginning, I was his everything.

And I knew I’d never feel that kind of special again.

Some say he pulled away when he got sick,

maybe to protect me.

I don’t know.

But I do know this:

the world lost a silent man

who gave everything to those he loved.

And I lost the one

who said it best

without saying anything at all.