Today is my 27th birthday. I hate it. You’re not here. You should be here. I struggle with the “you should be here” because that means that I am going against what God has done. God rescued you from the chains of addiction. He saved you; as promised. I prayed for your deliverance. And he answered. Just in a way that I never could have guessed. Maybe you would have lived the rest of your life drowning under the weight of addiction. Maybe you would have had children & I would have been Aunt Jessie. Maybe you would have had children and then one day collapsed under the weight of the struggles of saying no to heroin all day, everyday. And then your children would wonder, “where’s daddy”?
Today’s letter seems to be a bit of rambling. I can’t collect my thoughts today. They seem to be running rampant. I know this, I miss you. & today it seems as if I can’t take a full breath.
I’ve checked my phone more times than I can count already, looking for your name & it is only 8:51 am. It’s hard to grasp that I will never receive another “happy birthday” from you. Just another first I have to go through without you. I hate it.
I love you, Ryguy. More than words could ever say. My soul searches for you in everything. Looking for little semblances of you within my world.
I love you. I miss you.