My Wingman

This may not be your best photograph, but this moment will remain etched in me like a mark, an echo in my heart.

I saw you stripped of your armour, naked in your deepest vulnerability... not the body, but the soul exposed, open, sincere.

In that surrender, I found a brutal beauty, a rare courage that made me shiver and reminded me that the next three weeks will be hard for me without them, but that I too will manage…

You translated what you felt into images.

I gave you my music...now it is yours, yours and your daughter’s.

And I know that every time you listen to it, even in solitude, it will be an invisible thread that binds us, a living reminder of everything we shared.

Thank you for “our” 24 hours, which were an entire lifetime compressed into intense moments.

They were not just gestures or words.

They were a deep dive into one another’s presence, a space where I allowed myself to be whole, without masks, without fear.

With you, I relived sensations I thought had been buried forever.

Emotions long forgotten, silenced by time, pulsed back to life with force.

Smiles born for no reason, touches that spoke louder than any sentence, silences that screamed everything.

I will never forget our hunt at sunset, that instant when the universe seemed to conspire in our favour.

My beach will never be the same again...it is tattooed with your presence, with the warmth of your first kiss, with the embrace that said everything and more than we could contain.

You gave me hope back.

Not the promise of a future, but the miracle of the present.

The certainty that I can still feel... deeply, intensely...and be felt.