A “see you soon” that never came

“See you soon” – two little words that are so commonplace that we don't think about them. Words that we say easily because we firmly believe that we will see each other again. I said them too. Easily, naturally, without thinking that it might be the last time.

I didn't know that the next time I would see her would be at your grave.

I remember that day as if it were frozen in time. I opened the door, unsuspecting, and there stood the police. “Are you Mrs...?” – a lump in my throat, a dull feeling that immediately told me that nothing would ever be the same again. “Please sit down.” This sentence, which you usually only hear in movies, fell right into the middle of my life. And then the news that destroyed everything:

You're dead.

It can't be. It mustn't be. It can't be true. To this day, I sometimes think: That can't be right.

And then that “see you soon” echoes. A farewell that wasn't really a farewell. Words that have never lost their meaning for me – except that today their echo weighs unbearably heavily.

The song “If I Would Have Known” expresses exactly what has been with me ever since:

If I had known that it would be our last conversation, our last encounter, I would have hugged you tighter, held you longer, told you once again everything that was important to me. But life doesn't give us that warning. We love, we hope, we say goodbye—and sometimes that “see you soon” remains unfulfilled forever.

And so I sit here today, almost like I did back then when the news hit me. Still stunned. Still caught between reality and disbelief. And yet also with the certainty that my love will continue to accompany you. Even beyond this “see you soon.”

"If I would haven known, I'd hold you closer"

This line touches me particularly deeply. Because to this day, I still ask myself: Did I hold on tight enough? Did I live those last moments consciously enough? Looking back, you wish you had held on even longer, said even more, shown even more strongly how infinitely great love is.

"I'd never let you go"

An expression of the longing to have done everything possible to hold on to the loved one. But in retrospect, one knows that goodbyes cannot be prevented—and that is what makes it so painful.

"The hardest thing ist not seeing you again"

That is precisely the pain that remains day after day. It is not just the moment of farewell, but its duration. The knowledge that I will never hear his laughter again, never see him again. Every day is a reminder that something is missing, something that will never return.

"I'd say the things I never said"

The song is about unspoken words. I also have so many things that remain unsaid. Of course, he knew how much I loved him. But still, all the things I wish I could have said to him are running through my head. A “thank you,” an “I'm proud of you,” or simply “stay a little longer.” “I love you.”

This song is as if someone had found the language of my grief. It describes the desire to live the last moments differently, knowing that they are the last. But in life, we never have this perspective—we don't know when a “see you soon” will become a final farewell.

And so love remains. It carries the guilt, the longing, and the memory. It remains, even when the person is no longer there.