Happy Birthday, Turdface.

Today, Ian would be 38 years old. He’d be spending his entire day at the Nitty Gritty, drinking as many free beers as he could. And he could drink a lot.

I haven’t been posting lately, and I do apologize for it. But I feel like, for the time being, I don’t have much new to share with anyone.

I still miss Ian. I still feel as though I will never get over his death, and never be able to truly love again. But I am moving forward in life.

I’ve been promoted at work, and am super busy there. And it’s going pretty well. I’m in an amazing band, who are far more talented musically than I am, and it’s pushing me to learn more, and improve.

I’ve even started dating, in a manner… And I’m doing it in a way that I won’t even run the risk of “replacing” Ian… Though that’s not possible… It’s casual and uncommitted, and easy. Safe.

But honestly? I feel I haven’t moved very far from where I was in February. I would still give everything I now have to get him back. Without a doubt. Without a second thought. Even if that meant countless future years of the yo-yo, emotional torture that we had with each other. I’d do it.

Some people never learn?

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