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Next time we meet, it's forever.

My secret keeper died recently.

Her funeral was today.

I'm not really sad though. Though I suppose, why should I be? I already mourned and buried her a year ago, when I realized that she really and truly was no longer the person I'd always known, the person who had been my friend and confidant, who had shared secrets with me for most of my life. We never got our little house together. We never had our lunch date when she came home. If I ever have kids, she'll never know them. I can't visit her to share my thoughts or frustrations. My safe place is gone. I'll never get it back.

But she's not lonely anymore. She's whole now, and she kept her promise. She took those secrets with her, where they'll be safe.

And one day, when I go, I'll do the same. It'll be a while before I fulfill my half, but a promise is a promise all the same.

In the same way she's at peace, so am I. I hope that little piece of me is with her too, to keep her company while she waits.

I bought flowers on the way home, my favorites, and when I went to leave, a storm was coming down. And I thought it was funny, because a storm had blown in the same day I was born, when she was there and gave me my nickname.

I felt like she was saying hello.

Hey. I can move on now, right? I'm in a good place now, after so long. So are you. It'll be a while...it'll be a good while yet.

But I hope I see you again, at the end of this ride. I'll have a lot to tell you.

You're home now. Welcome home.