Maybe it’s better like this. I can still write here and not know if you will get it. My frequency will inevitably get less and less, and eventually this will become a museum with little models, and placards and stuffed extinct animal specimen.
I hope you are doing well. I hope things are settling for you. I hope that you are happy, or at least on your way there.
For me, things still hurt from time to time. The days are better. I can do those with ease. The nights are getting easier too. Even the ones when I don’t gorge myself with friends and phone calls.
I talked to Chad tonight and his life is all going to shit. He and Annie have split up, his mother is likely going to jail, and his father is trying to take all the money and the businesses from them all.
In light of that, I realize that it is time for me to stop this mourning. My problems seem so little compared to that right now, not to mention what is going on in Africa and the Middle East, but a friend’s woes always bring it home a little better.
As hard as it is, and as weird as it sounds, I feel freer now. I am not strapped a solitary version of a happy life that could not exist without you. I think that one could’ve been happy with you. Extraordinarily so. I thought for too long it was the only way. I imagine you have to feel free too now. I imagine my desire, my need, for that could’ve been overwhelming at times.
And so the days go on and get easier, my life seems to be changing at a pace that I thought would be impossible by this age. It wears me out but excites me. I have seen you two times in last week, just in passing. It wasn’t easy, but not as hard as it once would’ve been. You are still beautiful. You will always be here with me, inside me, no matter where the nearing crossroads will lead me. The days are getting easier, and I guess the nights are somewhat easier too.
And if you do ever read this anymore… if you haven’t seen “All the Real Girls” check it out. I am not sure what I think, but it did seem to speak some truth to me.