I haven’t written, lately, because words have felt hard. I haven’t written, lately, because my attention hasn’t been focused on you. And I want to apologize, because I remember those early days when I thought I would never stop thinking about you.
I love the ocean
I miss those moments now, that time when I felt complete in my grief. Because now I yearn for community, and it’s missing.
I keep waiting for sunshine, for something to tell me life isn’t always blue. I live in shades of blue.
I live in constant fear of the person I would become if I ever chose to live without you. I’m not capable of living without you.
A father and son play on the beach. One of them squeals, avoiding the waves. It’s a bit warmer today. I wonder if the water is cold.
When I think of thankfulness, all I can think of is the time I had with you. The whispered conversations. The whoosh of your first movements. The tactile knowledge of your hands, and your face, and your very active feet.
I am so thankful that all you ever knew is love.
This instinct for planning is painful to me. The best parts of my future are still achingly incomplete. I didn’t find him here because I carried him with me. I carry him and the world and the world is so heavy.