I keep thinking about the last time I hugged you. I wish I had held you a little longer. Back then, I didn't know it would be the last time our arms would find each other like that. If I had known, I would've stayed there longer, quietly taking in that moment. When I walked away, I thought there would always be another chance. Another day. Another hug. But life doesn't give warnings. Sometimes moments become the last ones without us even knowing. Now that hug lives only in my memory. And some nights, that's what hurts the most-not just missing you, but realizing I didn't know it was the last time I would ever hold you.