(and I kept them…)
It’s your birthday for another twelve minutes. I’ve been babbling to you all day, reading your words, my words, missing you terribly, missing you in such a surreal way…
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Hell Bent on Taco Bell Grande
Today. One of those days. Which is really becoming a fucking stupid thing to say. Everyday is one of those days. Every damn day. I walk the proverbial tight rope and you know, its like the racing games I used to love at the arcade – eventually, game over, you fall off and it fucking sucks.
So why I even contemplate the notion that there might be a day that doesn’t fall into the category of “one of those days” I DO NOT KNOW…
My sister had her bone marrow biopsy today. I have her two kids, so I have four kids running around…which is FINE but it is one of THOSE days, those days when I would call you at 4 and you would say “yes, it is okay to have a glass of wine with dinner” and you would laugh at me and talk to Sammy and Ruby and they would fall in love with you AGAIN (you and women – I SWEAR) and I would make the pasta and kiddies would squeal but it would ALL BE GOOD because you – you have the ability, had the ability to calm and comfort and give me love like no other. You made me okay.
And yes, I hate that I am wallowing and romanticizing but its my fucking misery and I’ll do it if I want to…
So along that vein…I know I didn’t throw out the note you scrawled on the back of the Blue Skies flier that listed off your Taco Bell order and ended with a great big I <3 U in that insanely fabulous handwriting that you have…I KNOW I KEPT IT. I know I put it somewhere VERY SAFE.
You wrote it April 21, I was in LaGrande, and sister would be in the hospital after that Taco Bell visit. You were amazing.
So I’ve been digging through every box of crap in every nook and cranny in the house and while I’ve found all sorts of things you have touched and scrawled on – adding to the Beezer Box that is now the Derek Box -I have not found that note.
Frustrated, tired, worried and…yeah…same ole’ song & dance.
I miss you. I love you. I’m fucking crying again, for you. I don’t know whether to box it all up and hide it or pull it all out so I’m dulled to it.
Nothing feels right, everything feels wrong and crooked.
Someone said I was your heart. You were mine. WTF do I do now?