An irreverent journey through bereavement & grief after my best friend (/boyfriend/it's complicated)'s suicide.
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It's January 1st; the first January first without you in it since 1972. The first without you in my life in some form for the past six or so years. What did we do last year? I can't even remember.
My first birthday without you, and of course there has been sadness, and memories of you, and spaces where you were missing. Still, there have also been moments of beauty, and kindness, and love. Your youngest wished me a happy birthday - from herself and you. That was really touching. K bought me a birthday cake, since you weren't here to do it. That, too, was deeply touching.
I'm sliding deeper into myself without you here. I don't know if anyone else has even noticed, let alone cares. I want to follow you. PS, H says Summer's crazy side swimming is seizures. I feel so guilty that we missed it.
Notes from yesterday, because I was too tired to write to you. 1. You bastard! There are easier ways to get out of putting up the Christmas lights, you know. 2. Seriously, who's gonna buy me a birthday cake now? 3. You're supposed to be here to do all this stuff with, slimebiscuit.
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