Number 9
In a little over a month it'll have been nine years.
There's going to come a point where I'll have lived more of my life without you in it than with you. If I'm lucky, in any case. That realization, while it should be obvious, weirds me out.
Year ten will be spent in Japan. I really wish you could be around to see that.
Nine's an important number for me, and this anniversary is no exception. I want so much to talk to you; I've changed a great deal. You were worried toward the end, and I want to reassure you. I'm okay. And I'm okay with how things happened. I can look back and understand why you did what you did. The things that made me bitter about us in the past have become clearer to me now that I've put some space between myself and them.
Since then I've had my triumphs and tragedies, my struggles and the fruits that they've borne; both sweet and bitter. A lot of promises were broken, other people have left my life in one way or another and still others have remained. There are still things I'm working on about myself and, if I live a life worth living, I suppose there always will be.
My missing you is a thing that has changed and evolved over time. One doesn't think of the quality of that feeling transforming and refining itself as the years go on, but I'm learning more that these feelings are living things that take up residence inside our skulls and beneath our skins. They cannot help but grow; shifting and reforming.
But still, I do miss you.
There's going to come a point where I'll have lived more of my life without you in it than with you. If I'm lucky, in any case. That realization, while it should be obvious, weirds me out.
Year ten will be spent in Japan. I really wish you could be around to see that.
Nine's an important number for me, and this anniversary is no exception. I want so much to talk to you; I've changed a great deal. You were worried toward the end, and I want to reassure you. I'm okay. And I'm okay with how things happened. I can look back and understand why you did what you did. The things that made me bitter about us in the past have become clearer to me now that I've put some space between myself and them.
Since then I've had my triumphs and tragedies, my struggles and the fruits that they've borne; both sweet and bitter. A lot of promises were broken, other people have left my life in one way or another and still others have remained. There are still things I'm working on about myself and, if I live a life worth living, I suppose there always will be.
My missing you is a thing that has changed and evolved over time. One doesn't think of the quality of that feeling transforming and refining itself as the years go on, but I'm learning more that these feelings are living things that take up residence inside our skulls and beneath our skins. They cannot help but grow; shifting and reforming.
But still, I do miss you.