I said I wasn’t going to write about you anymore, but I have to say something tonight because I had lunch with your girls and my mind is racing.
I miss you. I really do.
Today what really overwhelmed me is how much I want my son to know you.
It isn’t fair. Everything is so hard for him already and he has to make it in a world without you and my dad.
That can’t be right. It isn’t right. It hurts me and I hate it.
I can’t stand the image in my head of what would have been. I don’t want to know how easily my son would have fit into your life.
You would have gathered him in your arms and your heart and kept him safe, just like I try to do.
You would have helped him learn and laugh and love.
I know that as sure as I breathe. But I don’t want to know it. I really don’t.
Sometimes, I try to tell myself that we wouldn’t have been friends if you had lived.
I try to tell myself that we were drifting apart.
I try to tell myself that we were not interested in each others’ lives or kids or homes or hobbies or dreams anymore.
But that just isn’t true.
We drifted apart regularly, but we always drifted back.
We fought a lot, but we always made up.
We found each other ridiculous, annoying, rude, uninteresting, boring, petty, maddening…all the time…and then we didn’t.
So I know that picture of what would have been is accurate.
You would have loved my son. You did love my son.
So I miss you for that, you know?
I miss you because you loved my son.