It’s been a hard day. A bad day. The boys just… the boys. I’m so tired tonight.
I just want to tell you about it. But simply saying your name out loud has made my lungs feel smaller. This is why I don’t talk to you. Because I can’t breathe.
I can’t see your face. When I close my eyes, I can only picture photographs of you. I can remember pieces of you – your scruffy cheek, the line of your teeth, the honey brown of your eyes – but I can’t see the whole of your face.
I’m tired of missing you. It’s been a long, long time. More than 500 days.
Loneliness is hard to trust.
“Mommy, where is my blanket?” Tyler calls to me. My eyes are so swollen, they’re nearly closed. I don’t want to talk about my tears. They know I cry. They know why. I just don’t want to talk. I take him his blanket. He doesn’t notice my swollen eyes.
“Thank you, Mommy.”
He’s five now, Love. He uses words like nocturnal, extraordinary, interesting and actually.
I remembered to put a dollar under Tucker’s pillow – finally. The tooth fairy forgot two nights in a row. It’s hard to remember it all.
I think you’ll be glad to know I’m paying a little extra on the principal of the mortgage each month. I think that will really impress you. I choose mortgage over cute shoes. I hear you… “What? This can’t be. Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?!”
I finished my book proposal, babe. They sent it off to some big names. Maybe I’ll have a book on the shelves. How can it be that I cannot read it to you?
There are tears in my wine glass. Salty.
Tucker walks like you. His stride is perfectly yours. How did it happen this way? Any of this?
A friend of yours stopped me at Starbucks. He takes his kids to our pediatrician. He’s thankful you introduced him to the clinic. He says you introduced him to a lot of things, people, thoughts. He misses you.
I miss you.
Your college roommate is coming out this summer. He wants to meet the boys. He wants to play catch with Tuck. He says it’s only fair, since he made you toss a ball with him so often in college.
I don’t want to do this anymore.
How did it happen this way?
The weather comes on in 11 minutes. 9:17 always makes me think of you.
I would break every damn plate and picture in this house tonight. Just to hear it crash.
But I’m just too tired. I don’t want to do this anymore.
I love you. I just wanted to tell you about today.
Good night, honey.