A Letter for You

I pray every day, I talk to you at your grave. I wrote this, so I can always remember. This is my letter for you.

I miss the smell of your cologne on our date nights. I miss the way you would whistle while getting ready for work, even though I would yell at you for it because it was 5:30AM. I miss picking up your cans of chew and spitters off the coffee table every night. I miss getting pissed at the sound of your Xbox chiming when you would turn it on after dinner. The way you would smack my butt and tell me how much you loved me. How you would text me in the middle of the night while you were at work. I miss hearing Lola’s little feet storming down the hallway when she saw your truck pulling in the driveway. I miss your laugh, your fake Texas accent, your snore. They way you would scream singing songs at the top of your lungs, while I sang along in the front seat of your truck. I miss everything, seriously everything about you. The things that used to annoy me, the things that infuriated me, the things that melted me. I miss it all.

I’m grateful that I was the crazy person who asked to see you every day after you died until your funeral. The moments I had laying next to you playing our songs, holding your hand, and talking to you as if you were still in the room. Because it felt like you were. I’m thankful for the people around me who loved me and supported me, even in these borderline-psychotic moments. I memorized the way your face looked, the feeling of your hand in mine, and fixed your hair for the last time, as if we were going on a date again. I’m happy that I went against your wishes of being cremated and being spread at Pebble Beach Golf Club, and selfishly had you buried where I could visit you in the middle of the night when I need you most. Where our babies can bring you flowers and tell you about their day at school. I’m glad that I lied to my parents one freezing November night, so that I could sneak out  with my friends to meet you for the first time in a middle school parking lot. I’m forever thankful that I stopped you as you were going down the stairs, to kiss your neck and say goodnight, as you went to bed for the last time. Most of all, I’m thankful you texted me back right after, telling me you loved me and not to worry about you, because you were okay. I hang on to those words every day.

Things I want to tell you now. There is so much I want to say, but these are the things that I think of the most.

I’m sorry for nagging over the Xbox, and would give absolutely anything for you to be here even for just five minutes annoying me with it. For doubting you when you knew how to fix something, as I’m learning the hard way now. For not paying attention when you showed me how to change the furnace filter. We’re paying for it now. For making fun of your Christmas Light Show idea, but also sorry that I’m not doing it because it costs $73982 and I’m not near as smart as you to figure it out. I’m sorry that I listened to you and made you Kraft Mac-N-Cheese with hot dogs on your last day here with me (who the hell craves that??). 

I’m sorry that I told you to chill out with your “man cold” just two days before. If only I knew then what I know now. I’m sorry for who I have become in these dark days. For not pulling myself together when I know I need to. For distracting myself with nights out, and the meaningless things. For letting other people’s judgment blind me of who I really am. And on the flip side, not listening to others when they tell me the things you would be. I hate that you’re not here raising our babes with me, like we always dreamed of. I hate that you won our bet of who would go first. You always said you couldn’t live without me here, and that you knew you would die before me. I hate that you were right. I’m sorry for being angry when I can’t dream of you. There’s so much I want and need to do better. I promise, I’m trying.

Most of all, I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. And if this was inevitable like the Coroner told me, I’m sorry that I wasn’t lying next to you with your hand in mine, as you took your last breath.

You gave me everything. You saved me when I didn’t even know I needed saving. You gave me nine and a half years of love, laughter, *anger*, bliss, and the most fun I could ever imagine. You taught me and also showed me what it felt like to be loved in the most intense and unconditional way. You helped me become who I am today, and give me constant motivation to be even more. You gave me the most precious three beings, that I can always look at, and see you in them. You give me faith, even when I feel like that part of me is gone. The list goes on… but I am who I am, because of you. 

I’ll never be over you. I’ll never stop loving you. I’m forever your girl.