It’s been three months since I lost you. Three long, challenging months. There are some days where I feel like I will be ok. There are some days where I feel like I can’t go on. But everyday I wake up, force myself out of bed, and take the pup for a walk. I walk, and I think about you, and I try to hold back the tears. Sometimes I succeed. I walk the places that we walked and remember the things we talked about, the things that we did, and think about how much I miss you.
I look at Turner running around getting his zoomies out, and I smile because I know nothing made you happier than Turner being a goofball. And then I feel overwhelming sadness that I can’t share that happiness with you anymore. I grab my pendant you made that I carry around my neck and I kiss it, and I wish I was kissing you. And I keep on walking because that’s all I can do.
I walk and I think about how crazy the start of quarantine was, how we were discovering the new normal together. You started working from home, and I got to see you in work mode. You were so good at your job. Professional, courteous, and badass. Then after work you would do something amazing like make jewelry, or a funny music video, or do some BLM activism. You got pretty good at battling Trump trolls. And you somehow still found time to spend with me and make me feel special.
I remember one night early in quarantine, you were already asleep and I was watching the news, watching the world crumble all around us, and I felt so isolated. I crawled into bed and started to cuddle with you. You thought I was being frisky. I just needed to hold you. I needed you to make me feel safe. You got me through that night. I wish I could have stayed in that moment forever.
I never imagined life without you. It’s pretty miserable. The highlight of my day is letting Turner run around off leash at the beach or park. He looks so carefree and happy. He gives me hope that I’ll find happiness again. He gets me through each day. I’ve been rationing out some of the dog food that you bought for him. Today he gets the last bit of it. I’ll let him know it’s from his mama.
I had three months of quarantine with you. Now it’s three months of quarantine without you. I keep slipping further and further from the past and into the future. I feel like time is pulling me away from you. I feel so helpless. I feel so afraid that I’m not going to remember everything, that I’ll forget all the little things that made me love you so much. So I jot down every memory down when they pop up. I got enough to write a book. I will one day, but it’s hard to be motivated when I’m so depressed right now.
I try to keep myself busy. Well, that’s kind of a lie. I try to keep myself distracted. It’s hard when everything reminds me of you. I have the Cowboys vs Rams game on as I write this, and it hurts because the last NFL game I saw was the Super Bowl with you. It makes me feel guilty. It’s tough to do something alone that we used to do together.
Time to wrap this up before the roommates come home and see me crying like a bitch. I fucking miss you. I love you, baby. I’ll never stop loving you. I promise you that.
Critically Rated at 1/17
Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young
criticallyrated 