"Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory. Those profound words come from the least expected source, Dr. Seuss," I looked up from the lectern, seeing the teary eyes of the few dozen people gathered in the church. I took a breath, 

"I chose that quote because if there was anything that summarized the relationship I had with Zach, that was it. Our time together was marked by moments of silliness and moments of deep profundity. Leave it to a writer to use a word like profundity in a eulogy." 

There were muffled laughs. I nodded and felt my eyes burn as tears began to fill them. I cleared my throat, 

"I came to New Hampshire to find rest and to find inspiration. I had come down from the high of publishing a bestseller, a deeply cynical look at the world around us and the impact of our terminally online lives on mental health and connection. I found Zach and in him I found everything I didn't know I was missing. I, uh," my voice broke, my throat felt like it had a baseball in it, clogging my words with emotion, "Excuse me, I didn't believe in love before I met Zach. I don't really know what I believed in before I met him. It certainly wasn't love though. I wasn't even comfortable enough to say that I was in love with a man until the very end," 

As I said that out loud, my composure fell away. I covered my my mouth with my hand and choked back the sobs that came from my chest. I regretted nothing about my relationship with Zach, I only regretted that I couldn't admit a part of who I was until it was too late. He deserved better than that. I took a moment, looking down at the pages in front of me, trying to avoid making eye contact with Zach's family members. I felt a sense of shame. Zach deserved a better eulogy than this, he deserved to be remembered how he was. 

"We all know the infectious light that Zach brought to our lives, how his laughter seemed to spread through a room, how his smile could part the clouds. We all know of the tenderness and the sincerity in everything he said. He was always the shoulder to cry on even when he carried burdens heavier than any of us could bear. He was relentlessly optimistic. There was no problem that he didn't believe could be solved. He loved with everything he had and he loved everyone. To know Zach was to know love." 

I looked up again and I locked eyes with Zach's father. I saw the grief etched into his face but he still smiled softly at me, the edges of his mouth curved up beneath his tear streaked cheeks. He nodded encouragingly at me. 

"Uh, Zach helped me navigate through what I thought was the toughest process I would ever go through. Now I know it was never as hard as I made it out to be, but Zach never criticized me. He helped me come to terms with the fact that I loved him even though we're both men. He helped me navigate the complicated feelings and the sometimes overwhelming guilt that came from them because I had grown up in churches that condemned me for them. My love for Zach never felt wrong, in fact, it was the first time that something felt right." 

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I paused again, losing my place in the pages as the words swam through the tears clouding my vision. I looked down at the open casket in front of me where Zach lay peacefully, his eyes closed and his hands folded on his chest. If it weren't for the casket encasing him, I would believe that he would wake up if I just gently shook him. He was dressed in his favorite suit, a cobalt blue blazer over a freshly pressed white shirt finished with a matching bowtie. His hair was carefully coifed and not a single strand was out of place. He looked exactly how he would have wanted to for his grand exit from this life. 

"It isn't fair that we had to lose him so soon," I said as I pushed the papers aside, speaking from the heart and the depths of my own grief. "I struggle every day with the cruelty of having loved and lost this beautiful man so soon. Of watching his parents, who are wonderful people, have to bury their only son. Of knowing that there is a void that will never be filled whether its at the community theatre that Zach loved to perform in or at the coffee shop that served as his first job or at the school where he taught. That weight nearly suffocates me every day. I know it does the same for all of you." 

I took a deep breath and I looked directly at Zach, speaking to him. 

"Thank you for being such a remarkable person, for showing me how love really felt and making me believe in it again. You are my inspiration and I will keep your memory with me for the rest of my life. My only regret will be that I was not the man I should have been for you in our short time together. But thank you for making my life beautiful." I looked back at the others gathered in the pews, dabbing at their eyes with the tissues that were at every row. "All of us were a part of Zach's journey and he was a part of ours, a big part. He reminded us how to be better people. The world would benefit from knowing his story and so I will commit it to words. Zach, the story does not end today, it merely begins. Thank you." 

There was applause as I stepped down from behind the podium. Zach's father rose to his feet, clapping for me as tears poured from his eyes. His wife stood beside him and she gave me a knowing nod. I crossed in front of the casket and I squeezed Zach's hand one last time. It was cold to the touch and I felt a deep pit in my stomach as the realization that I would never again feel the gentle warmness of the man I called my boyfriend set in. 

"Goodbye, my love," I whispered and I leaned down and kissed Zach's forehead. 

The rest of the funeral went by as a blur. I couldn't focus. When they closed the casket and carried Zach to the hearse, I felt my heart break as it had the day he had died. That same sinking feeling, that drop that felt as though some trapdoor had swung open beneath me. The realization of the finality of the situation. I felt it again as I watched his white marbled casket get lowered into the ground and covered with a tarp. By the time I got in my car to drive back to our once shared apartment, I was numb. 

I opened the door and I stared into the dark living room. Our cat, Milo, meowed to greet me and wound between my legs. I rubbed his head before sitting on the floor and burying my face in his side as I cried. In a moment of understanding, Milo stayed there and he purred softly as I cried. I wiped my face with my hand and kissed his small head before retreating to my office. I grabbed a pen and I opened the leather bound journal that Zach had bought me as an anniversary gift. I could almost feel his arms gently wrap around my neck like they did when he would lean over my shoulders as I wrote, pressing his chin on the top of my head. I heard his words as the pen's point pressed against the white page, 

"So many stories inside that head of yours, let them out." 

And I began to write.