It's been three months and still I find myself missing you. Somedays it's just an inkling. Others it like the first Monday after you left, when I finally let myself cry and cry and cry until my mom got mad because she couldn't sleep. I still bring you up in conversation. My heart will still run the occasional race at the sound of your name. I like to think you miss me sometimes. That you read my letter and put it with the others. That it kills you to see me getting along fairly well without you. That when you play with Sam and Pogo when you go home you think of how much I loved them. Or when you go to the park where we always used to swing and how I cried on Thanksgiving and you hugged me and tried to fix it. But it was broken. It had been for a while. But I was willing to fix it. Sometimes you were too. But the will never lasted long enough to fix much. Usually just caused more damage. We were unhealthy. We were bitter. We were no good. But I loved you so much. And at times you cared for me more than I had ever know before. Maybe someday I will find it in me to let you go, but for now "you are the scar on my tissue, that I show all of my new friends".



Goodnight Beautiful Boy