i'm not posting this on the two month anniversary... but it's been because I've had trouble formulating my thoughts, not that I forgot about it.

I feel in limbo. Your absence is no longer a surprise, but the lonliness is.

I still think about what I could have done different. What I could have changed, to keep you with me only a little bit more. My frustration and anger feels so limp and wasted, when instead I could have tried harder, done more. Or so I tell myself. Logically, I realize there was ultimately not much.

And somehow that hurts more. That I did do so much to help you, to love you, to prolong you. That I did try. That there simply was no more road to follow, no more pages to read, no way to lengthen our time together any more than it already had been.

And even typing this makes me hurt. I've not cried in a month over you, and yet the admission that there was little more I could have done to show how much I loved you, how much I wanted you to stay makes me sob.


I've started to accidentally slip-of-the-tongue reference you, reference voices I used for you, silly nonsense bits about you. I freeze every time and walk myself back from it.

How do I explain the ways you impacted me? That I have a specific baby voice for you, a specific intonation and verbage? That the words like "baby pranked!" meant nothing to you, they were simply what I ascribed you in moments of joy and amusement. It was never at your expense, please believe me. But it was a way to verbally express all the wonder you brought me.

And now I keep accidentally bringing that Fluff-assigned wonder out, even when I want to keep it in a pretty box in my head.

Is that bad?


Regardless, I loved you. I still do. And I feel so sure that you loved me, even at the end. For all the way I hope you felt me hold you as you died, I want you to know I felt you come to me even though you hurt so much and could barely walk, and headbutt my leg, knowing I was there for you.

I regret so much but I loved you. I loved you.