14 months ago we were talking about where our beach house was going to be, because you wanted west coast and I wanted southeast. 17 months ago I went with you to the doctor and I sat in the waiting room and I filled out your forms with information I knew as well as my own. 8 months ago I got rid of the car you helped me pick out. The car that two years ago you drove home from that bar on the lake after three martinis and a little too much sun. A year ago you were my life and now I have an apartment that you’ve never seen. Today, I realized I was wearing an outfit that you’d never touched any part of except for the earrings, so I took them off. I never think about how my life and everything it revolves around can so drastically change, until it does. And it always does. But the same way someone you once knew everything about becomes a stranger, strangers can become someone you know everything about. And there’s one out there right now whose name you don’t even know, who will one day help you name your child.
you deserved a rose garden, with all the thorns picked off. you deserved a spring cascading out from the mountains, nourishing and replenishing you. you deserved waves washing over your feet, and the salty smell of an ocean breeze. you deserved a banquet with everyone who ever loved you, and god there were so many. you deserved sweet touches, knowing nothing more was expected, knowing you were more than enough. you deserved a reprieve, the hyenas taking an afternoon nap, and you flourishing in their absence. you deserved every gentle word, every reassurance that you were here and safe and no longer to be harmed. you deserved to never have been harmed. you deserved to know a life outside of constant pain and suffering, and you deserved that kind of a life with him.