Three Months

Three months.

It's been three months.

3 months since you died.

How has it been three months already? How am I not ready to write about it yet? How am I not ready to accept it yet? Why do I still find myself moving to text you, only to remember too late. After I started the first sentence, then have to slowly delete what I wrote and put the phone down again. Feel the pain again. Remember that you're not on the other side, ready to laugh with me, share the joke, and make my day brighter. Why do I get excited when I read something online that I know you'll love as much as me, only to be crushed once again when I realize I can't send it to you and wait to hear your excitement match mine. Why do I get excited when I see our favorite band is touring again and think we should totally get tickets and see them together, only to accept the pain that I'll never be able to see them again, because how do I do that without you?

We're getting ready to go to Hawaii to celebrate your life. How do I enjoy that trip without you? How do I walk the paths you told me about so many times and not have you there with me?


I miss you.