Tidbits

Jul 16, 2007
Tidbits
Current mood:thankful

Jon, in a way I'm writing this to you. I'm getting better but it's deep. Every day I improve but there are still moments that I'm not sure how to get through, and still daily I'm sorry for YOUR loss. I hope you've gained. I hope there is an afterlife and you are free and happier than ever. I hope you can see me. If you can't - but are okay - then I can accept that. Anyway - I want to write little things here and there that maybe I can't put in the other pages, or things that I just think of now and then - that maybe people don't want to hear about. It's not that they don't want to hear about it, but they don't fucking get it. They think that after this long I should be over it or get counseling. I know they're trying to help, but no one will understand what we had Jon. Fuck - we didn't even understand it. I love you, I love everything you did for me, like you were here for me. Sometimes I think back on those 2 really bad back to back fights we had in 2005, and I see your face and I feel....so ashamed for the way you let me treat you. Now this whole thing hasn't completely blinded me, you said some hurtful things sometimes...but mostly Jon, I'm glad you did. I look at myself today - and how strong I am, and I owe ALL of that to you. I owe my smile to you, I owe everything to you. I can only hope I had that strong of an impact on you. Not "ON YOU" but in your life. I know that I did some. I love you pal. I always will.

The way the living room light would welcome me when I drove up at dark, or sometimes just the TV flickering.

The way you growled in my ear and next to my neck...it wasn't even a growl; like a cackle.

You always had your dishes in the dishwasher, never in the sink.

The way you'd grab my boobs every morning and say "Boobs" loud and it would scare me.

We'd both pretend to sleep when Budha wanted out, hoping the other would get up....cause we're assholes.

Your walk

The drunken way you'd play with Budha when you'd get home from the bar.

Oh those drunken tangents. Man I hated those.

How you held a cigarette.

The way you said "Noooo" in a very dramatic way. It was real though.

You always told me "nice shot" in HotShots, but if I won you wouldn't play anymore.

I'm sorry for our stupid fights over the names of streets, or pronounciations of words, we just always wanted the last word. Who the fuck cares.

You cracked my back

When I looked my very best you touched my stomach and said "hmmm" - I can't explain it - but that made me realize i looked good. And you never NEVER made me feel like I looked bad. Even when you hated my outfits. I kept the shirt I made fun of you for so....:)

Budha is so wonderful, she's making her way up to bed right now. My roommate is very good to her, and she loves him. Not like you. Never.

Your obsession with the 'satellite" that was always coming closer to your house.

You made hot chocolate in the coffee pot.

The way you bitched about family.

The way you loved your family.

Your jeans.

The way you said my name.

Your cough and recovery.

"You want a soda" from family guy.

I miss you more than I could ever imagine possible. I'm doing okay - I really am. But...I don't want to lose you. And I can't carry you with me either. I don't know how to solve that. Jon, I want to start dating. I KNOW you'd want that. I'm scared. I might - (doesn't look like it though) see a guy named John. I don't know if I can do that though. I want you to be "my Jon" - when I say "Jon" people "betta' recognize...nigga!" I miss talking with you. I could say ANYTHING in front of you - ANYTHING, whether I meant it or not and we just let it be. You too. You could say anything to me. You still can, and I want you to. Anyway....there's a lot to be scared of. I'm afraid to kiss someone, I'm terrified to sleep with anyone. I could use it though....Damn. it's going to be hard though. I have a lot of dreams of you "coming back" but you never tell me if you were/are okay. I feel like I can't....let go until I know KNOW this. And that probably pisses you off, but I don't know what else to do. I'm good - I promise, I just....I don't know - I guess it's guilt..partly - and partly that I just am so sad for you about how it happened. I know it was the best possible way, but fucking a - you just went to bed. You had a lot of years left in you. And maybe I'm being naive....I just - I just want to know.

You liked your eggs over hard

Your cheese real - not sauce.

Your meat medium well (correct?)

I loved scratching your back with my nails.

You are the most comfortable spoon.

You were my music. that just felt honest to say.

Till next time, I'll hope for you to love me in my dreams. To tell me you're okay, and just to visit.