I miss you.
You've missed so much. Every time I see a new movie I love or hear a great song or discover a new poem, I wish I could call you and share.
I drove through Riverview this morning. I know you're not there, but I thought maybe I could feel you. Instead, I nearly had a panic attack because not only could I not feel you, I couldn't find the two graves I visit. Too many dead. Too many.
I bought myself orange juice and peach schnapps. You would've thought it was hilarious because I had to look up the recipe for Fuzzy Navel, and then I couldn't remember where the hell they keep schnapps in the liquor department. Brilliant.
Came home and made myself a drink. Probably the only occurrence in history where I bought things specifically to make myself a drink. I just don't drink. I'm sure that's no surprise to you, but I'm drinking one for you today.
A toast!
To the man who convinced me to write
To the man who made me laugh and who knew me deeply
To the man who helped me regain my faith that good men exist
To the man who spoke in code on my front porch
To the man my mother always loved to feed
To the man who once put condoms on my christmas tree
To the man who gave the worst/best dating advice
To the man who told me the story of "The Wind Cries Mary"
To the man who made me mix cds and understood the stories I told in mine
To the man who told me I was every man's dream girl
To my best friend
I miss you.
I love you.
Yours,
The former Ms. Cheatwood now Mrs. Ewens
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