I went floating yesterday with the family. I think of you every day but I especially think of you and miss you on days where I do things outside. I miss all the things we have in common and doing them with you. I know you would have been fishing. I wonder what your weekend is like?

As time goes on I hear little pieces of information about you. I had John W at the house to fix the furnace. I guess you’ve been living a few different places. I told him nothing about you or us but you know how that man talks. The more pieces of info I get the more your past behavior makes sense. It makes me question if you ever truly wanted me… loved me. Was I just a girl for you to use? It seems so hard to believe that for 7yrs we were together and that you didn’t love me. I’m sad that it didn’t work out. We were so perfect together but somehow couldn’t make it work. Is that because you weren’t who I thought you were?

I think maybe the right relationship won’t be so intense as ours. There will be less “love”, less “chaos”, and much less “passion”. I think I have to learn to love and accept what is good for me, which is going to be boring but comfortable and safe and dependable. I struggle with this.

I took our family photo down this week. It bothers me that it’s not there anymore. I hate this. I could remove every possible reminder of you in this house, I could burn the fucking house down. Nothing I do alleviates the ache. When will it pass? I look for you everywhere I go. When do I get to move on?