Day 659

I have been writing about you a lot.

Heavy on my mind always.

As the years of grief continue it seems that my missing you blends seamlessly with my longing for Dave.

I catch myself often looking towards the skies and asking as a unit the next move.

Then I digress into knowing the parts where you would agree with one another and the parts where you saw the world completely separate.

I never get answers but I also never feel completely alone even as I scream at the heavens.

August is a bad month.

This window 3-12.

I hate it.

I had a flashback.

Sitting on the couch at the Stetson apartment.

I was two months pregnant.

Just found out.

Fresh off that horrible relapse months before.

I remember the last time we spoke you told me happy birthday.

I also remember being taken aback that you actually remembered.

I have spent much of my life internally reiterating how a person does not love me.

Over and over I will push the same faults and quickly remind myself, even as I smile, that THEY do not love me.

Problem being I have loved them.

Many times them loving me in return but I am unable to see it.

It was morning.

I had my typical eggs, avocado, and blueberries for that time.

Watching Below Deck.

Just being.

I was about to embark on my greatest journey.

I had actually written you a lengthy message the night before….. looking back on it probably as you were dying honestly…..

We were always connected like that.

No matter the distance.

The last time I ever saw you I knew it was the last time.

I started sobbing and didn’t know why.

You of course gently brushed my cheek telling me “Strawberry Shortcake don’t cry. You are too beautiful to be so sad.”

I didn’t even know true sadness then.

Even the grips of our crippling addictions.

The message.

Ugh that fucking messenger haunts me.

I wanted to tell you I was pregnant.

It felt like a respect thing.

For all the years we had spent together. I do after all refer to you as my “first” husband.

I wanted you to know that I loved you, always would, but I needed to keep growing.

I wrote it and deleted it.

Wrote it again.

Deleted.

In the end I just wrote “I love you and I have to let go” and left in the que.

I believe I got a text from your Mom first.

I sat breathless for what felt like days.

My first thought was Little Mama.

They say animals just know and the two of you had the purest love I ever saw in your eyes.

Our little ride or die gansta pup.

Fuck.

Five fucking years without you on this earth.

F I V E years.

The rest is meshing now.

I love you Monks.

Thank you again and again for being my destruction and salvation.

I am a better woman for having been loved by you.

Now go teach Dave to eat Indian 😂

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