I keep thinking that maybe this will get easier. I guess it has. I don't cry anymore when I'm alone in my car. Not as much anyways.
I spoke about you, and how I felt after you passed, publicly for the first time a couple weeks ago. It was a little scary, and I know if you were alive you would probably laugh at me for being such a girl, and you might be a little bit mad that I was thinking about you in church--well, maybe not mad, but you would probably find it...ironic? I don't know. You probably wouldn't have been comfortable with it. But the point is, I was so reassured that this is not the end. I will see you again. For better or for worse, but probably for better, there's a reason for everything. There's a bigger picture that I can't quite grasp, and perhaps I won't until I see you again. But it's so comforting to know that goodbye isn't forever. I can still pray for you (even if that bothers you), just like I did when you were here, when we were close, when life still stretched out before us filled with hope and promise. Because God believes in second chances (and thirds, and fourths, and fifths), he believes in the healing power of love, he believes in you, and so do I.
I feel you close sometimes, but then you slip through my fingers again. I'm holding tight to our memories though. Please know that I still miss you, and I always, always will.
Here's to happier thoughts tomorrow.