I'm sitting here drinking wine on our front porch with the dog you helped us choose. I realize I have to be careful about giving myself permissions - oh, it's ok, have another glass of wine, you're grieving. Have some more chocolate, you're grieving. I could easily end up at 200 pounds again. And I so enjoyed shocking you in Paris when I was down to my ideal weight.
It's hard to be here, where no one knew you. I imagine it's also hard to be where memories of you are everywhere. Basically, it's just fuckiing hard.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. I was supposed to have years to regret being so far away, and trying to find times to visit you, and hoping you'd have time to visit here, and bring jealous of all the time Gaea's family got to spend with you. Instead I just have regrets. That I didn't call more often, even though I knew you were busy. That I didn't visit more often. That I left Minneapolis just after you got back. Damnit, I miss you.
As I was writing this, Cricket got up and moved to my side. I think he's a very empathetic dog. So I went around back and got the bubble wand and sat here blowing bubbles for him. I wish I had a picture, but I can't blow bubbles and take pictures at the same time. It was supposed to cheer me up a bit, but I can't get there right now. More wine and some chocolate? Possibly a bad idea...
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