I should have started this earlier. So these first blogs will be anachronistic until I catch up. 2 months isn't a lot.
But Day 60 - I finally made it through all the texts I had saved on my phone. I wish I had more. I wish I had more to remember you, to keep you alive. I don't know why today is especially bad - my melancholia enveloping me like the blanket I made you for Christmas. I want to curl up in it and sleep. And maybe in those dreams I'll see you again. Maybe because tomorrow marks two months. And tonight is Alex's birthday party, the first of his you'll miss.
There will be presents and food and cake and booze. And we will joke and laugh and bitch about Mark and Dawn like we usually do. And while we do these things life will be normal. And then, driving home, or getting ready for bed, in that first moment of peace and quiet the sadness will descend. Because you should be here with us. And my heart will break all over again. And typing this on my phone at rehearsal and I look up and see this:
Close up of that stupid balloon that caused my breakdown:
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