Next week will be 2 months, and I am still struggling so hard to explain to everyone how hard it’s been since you’ve been gone. I’ve tried to write them down in some meaningful way that any person can understand, but everything just comes out hazy and incoherent.
So instead, I decided to write you a series of letters. After all, it’s you that knew me best.
You’ve seen me pour over my laptop, writing on my blog (not lately, though) whenever I felt I had something to say. More so, you grumpily posed and then sat next to me on the couch or bed, while I posted pictures and wrote “stories” of you on Instagram.
Point is, you have always been at my side whenever I wrote something whenever I wanted to share my life experience — whether good or bad, or when being assertive about a particular issue.
You have always been at my side. Curled up in your bed. Next to my desk.
It breaks my heart every time I think of the places you’re not everywhere I go, everywhere we’ve been. Even everywhere we may have shared some sort of memory.
Barking whenever we see cows (“Ma-ooohs”) or horses at the side of the road? Yep. Getting excited when knowing we’re “almost home” from a car ride or a walk? Absolutely.
Saying “Big bed?,” when I’m read to go to bed and seeing you get excited, jump off the couch, and run to the bedroom? Every single night.
Yes, I know that grief will fade in time; and that you will always be in my heart, but as of now, I can’t seem to stay above water. Everywhere I look, see, or touch, I think of you, and I wish you were here. I want my shadow back; I want my bathroom buddy, my toothbrush companion. I want to see you when I step out of the shower, waiting patiently for me to finish up. I want to pick you up and hold you until you squirm your way out of my arms. I want to sit on the couch and have you bury yourself in between my legs. I want to go to sleep with you next to my side on my left hip.
You were my security blanket. The person who made me feel safe. Having you there was such a comfort. I never realized how much you were until you were gone. I miss your greeting whenever we come home from being out, even though I am secretly hurt that you run to Daddy first. Though I’m pretty sure you did that to “punish” me. Omg I love your sloppy kisses of happiness; bad breath and all. It just makes it so much harder as you’re the one being I want to comfort me at this moment. But it’s you that I’m grieving about.