Sunday Letter #12


Today, I broke out your grill. It’s the first time I’ve actually grilled on my own. I was really hesitant to do it, because I thought it would be kind of a pain in the butt. But now, having done it, it’s almost easier than cooking normally. I have a feeling I’ll be doing it more often now that I know that. You’d be happy about that, I hope.

This week, coming back from my trip, I have been noticing a much wider range of emotion that I’m experiencing. I think I was so mired in surviving and getting through before I left, that I shut everything down a little. I was happier this week than I have been (at home) since you died. I was also sadder than I have been in at least a couple months. It’s good that I’m feeling things more, I think… It does make for interesting interactions, though. On Friday night, when I was hanging out with people from work, and having fun, I had to leave the group a couple times to go hide in the bathroom and cry.

I still pretty much can’t do anything without thinking about you…. I was in my basement, folding laundry today, and I thought about how much you hated laundry. Then a little later, I was looking around the basement, happy that it’s clean and bright, and not scary to be in, and contemplating how I plan on finishing it… And it made me cry that you’re not going to see it. You’re not going to see the sound-proofed room I planned, primarily for playing loud music and Rock Band with you. I’m still going to do it because I might eventually get off my butt and form or join a band, and having sound-proofed practice space would be good.

You should still be here. It’s not fair. I’m getting used to your absence though… and I am sometimes glad. I also sometimes hate that I’m getting used to it.

I miss you. Always will, on some level.


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