its coming in waves, the sadness, the freedom, the tragedy, the goodness. its amazing how painful it is to take down all artifacts of the last two years; little remains on my walls, my pillows are bare, my tabletops now artless. i don't even know what to do with everything. i know i won't get rid of it, mostly because most of it is art made for me by someone who has my heart, who was my best friend, who got me through africa, who gave me the gift of being a faux-parent, who inspired me to do great and terrible things, who is gone now, forever i fear, and whom i'll never have again. i can't look at that stuff, it can't be up there as a reminder of what was and will never be again. of the joy, the light, the shooting stars. the giddiness. the hands. the baby boy. the tuk.
so the walls are barren, the toys in a box to be sent over to fisher, the anger in a letter for laura that i'll never send, but unfortunately, the failure, the sadness, the loneliness, the love lost, thats all mine to bear.
and all on this tragically, in-your-face holiday.
valentines is a day of reflection; sadly my reflection is of one, not two or three faces any more.
but as ryan said during our last talk, "lets make this count, lets make everything have been with a purpose" and so, with those lovely, leading words, i'll say this:
i'm going to paint the walls, i'm going to get new sheets and rearrange most everything, i'm going to organize, my closet, my car, my debt and my life, i'm going to be the best person i can be knowing that that is all ryan has ever wanted for us to be: our best.
be good to yourselves today. and more importantly, tomorrow.