173 Days Since I’ve Had A Good Day

It’s almost been 6 months since the day you decided to join the stars that we spent too many nights looking at, studying their movements, craving to be just one inch closer.

It’s been almost 6 months, and I still haven’t gotten a decent night’s sleep, no matter how many pills I take, or how much wine I drink, and god dammit I am exhausted all the time.

It’s been almost 6 months since I could last say “I’m having an amazing day” and not be lying about my loose definition of amazing.

I’ve written a hundred letters to you, 150 if you want to be more exact. Letters that ranged from; I miss you, and I can’t imagine being in the world where you’re not there to call when I feel like my scenic view is shaking. To letters where I’m angry, unapologetic, but also terrified to tell you that I want to be with you more than I want to be where I am today.

It’s been almost 8 months since I had last heard you laugh, a laugh that would awaken even the deepest of sleepers, in a way that you couldn’t be upset about.

It’s been almost 8 months since you told me “Take off that dress, and end this tea party, you know you’re better than this” But you know what, I’m not, not yet.

It’s been almost 8 months since you’ve left me a voicemail, singing me a day to remember songs terribly out of tune, demanding that I stop sleeping and answer the phone every now and then.

I know you think that I’d have a million people who I could talk to about you, but really, when you left me, everyone else who I thought weren’t going to leave, left too. While I don’t blame them, I think it’s rather strange their timing.

Every single part of my soul wants to call you up and have you tell me that I’m better off without them, or tell me that it’s all my fault and I need to win them back, but you’re not here, and I don’t know what to do anymore,

You’ve been gone for almost 6 months, and I still haven’t removed your name and phone number from my favourites list in my contacts. You’re the background on my phone, and the last person I think of before I go to sleep.

I spend my free time looking for more pictures from our past that I can share with friends. They tell me that you only really die the last time that somebody mentions your name, and Aldreen, I never plan to stop.

Don’t ever be afraid to reach out.