2003-10-17 - 4:47 p.m.
I gave you a letter written carefully in pink ink. It was almost two years ago now. Did you ever read it? Did it get lost in your pocket, fly away in the wind on the way to Florida? I told you to read it on the way down there, when you got there, anytime as long as I wasn't there. Did you stuff it in your pocket and forget?
A few days from now will be the marker, 8 months. Has it really been that long? Sometimes it feels like forever and other times it feels like I am stuck in that moment, on the phone with her, unable to be there to see you one last time. You are forever mine. You will always be the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. In a way I will.
Is it better this way? That's what they tell me. No more pain, suffering, waiting. No more kisses, hugs, love, anticipation, bragging, love, dreaming. At least I don't have to see you with someone else...? Is that good? No, I'd rather you be alive with someone else than rotting in the ground.
And you were the glue that held us together, as cliche as that sounds. Now that you are gone we don't speak. The great frindship we built has died. It left us a month after you.
He can never know. He has to think I have forgotten about you.
Someday I will have a son and he will bear your name.
