I Can’t Ever Say Goodbye ©

The story — in my words

I wrote this after a trip to the market where I found myself reaching for a loaf of sourdough I didn't need anymore. It’s that strange, muscle-memory phase of grief where your hands haven't caught up to your heart yet. I wanted to capture those tiny, quiet collisions with the past—the way a stranger’s jacket or a laugh in another room can pull the floor right out from under you. We cut this track with a very sparse arrangement because I wanted it to feel like someone sitting in a kitchen alone at midnight. It’s not a song about the funeral or the big tragedy; it’s about the Tuesday afternoon two years later when you finally decide to let the sun hit their favorite chair.