It is two years and four months today. Don't know that the arbitrary marker means anything, or that it is "responsible" for the badness and heaviness in me. Honestly, I'm not sure there is ever anything but heaviness, it just has different shades.
I super duper much miss being light. Being normal. I miss finding things funny. Or you telling me something is funny. I miss being teased by you. I miss your hand on my knee while you're driving; your hand on the small of my back as you usher me in through a door. I miss holding hands across the breakfast table while we read the paper silently. I miss being able to go out for breakfast with you, to eat hash and pancakes like we did 122 weeks ago right now - just be fucking normal. I am tired of dragging my ass around this world. Everything comes attached to this. This comes attached to everything.
I wish I had some light in me, some light to share. I got nothing. Although, some trees in our neighborhood are a really amazing shade of red.