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.
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.
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.
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.
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 😂