To The Boy:
I have written this post twice now, and it keeps getting rambly and kind of sad and I am really out of the habit of this whole blogging thing. Who knew that would ever happen? I was going to be a blogger. Now I had to even talk myself into writing this post, and that took three tries. But we're sitting here, at year four, and I've done it the past three years. I can't stop. If anyone can get me to post, it's you. So here we are.
To be 100% honest, this has been a rough year. Our schedules have never been more opposite and I've been dealing with depression that runs deeper than it has in a very long time and I can't see the light at the end of the tunnel yet. You are a large part of my happy and you remind me of who I am when this isn't engulfing me, but with the opposite schedules I find myself sad because I miss you. When I come out the other side, and I will, I hope I can someday make it up to you. I don't think you'll ever truly understand how much it means to me that you're sticking by me through this. It's hard for me, and I know it's hard for you. But we have both promised we're in this for the long haul and we're coming out of this long winter and the longer days and warmer weather always helps me. Maybe that light is closer than I think and maybe I'll be able to make it up to you sooner than I imagined.
You need to know that I have a book that I make myself write down one thing every day that makes me happy, and since I began doing this your name pops up more than anything else. You make me laugh harder than anything else in the world. I read my post to you last year and I made myself cry because I don't think I could ever say all that again as well as I did, back when I was writing more than a sentence a day and doing this blog thing. But it's all still true. You get me, and I hope you think I get you too. We're weird and quirky and random as shit. Other people who aren't around us much get this very specific look on their faces when we get rolling in our sense of humor and I can't decide if they want to hug us or hit us. We're too busy laughing too hard to care.
I love laughing with you. I love being me with you because I can truly be me without fear of judgement or repercussions. I am safe. I am confident. I am whole. You support every wild idea I get, even though every wild idea in the past year hasn't lasted me more than a couple weeks. You are fighting battles of your own and I hope you know I am in your corner, now and always. I may have a funny way of showing it, but I will always root for you, support you, and love you with everything in me.
I can't imagine my life without that silly day four years ago under the cherry blossoms. I hope you can't either. In 365 days I'll be sitting here writing another one of these, hopefully less awkwardly, and talking about our adventures out of the country and back up to Philly and to and from The Cape. I'll tell you I can't say how much you mean to me because it isn't possible, that came out of the fog, and I will thank you for all the little things that make every day more special than the last. I'll fill those blanks I'm missing this year, and I know you understand why this year is different and that as long as you're holding my hand, I'll be okay. Thank you for always holding my hand love. When it comes down to it, that has always meant the most. I will always hold yours, too.