Year two.
You know, I had this great post written in my head, but I've forgotten most of it by now. That's what I get for waiting until the last moment, isn't it?
There's this guy that keeps walking into where I work (Advance Auto Parts, by the way. Thought you might like that. I don't know why) and he looks just like you. Bushy, curly red hair, budding goatee, quirky smile, tall and gangly, and every time he walks in I think he's you and my breath catches, and then I realize that it's not and I go in the back and cry. It's like having you all over again (almost daily now) and having that hope and then having it ripped away.
In two days I celebrate the two year anniversary of getting my knee surgery. It was one of the biggest life changers for me, something that infinitely improved my life, but feeling happy just seems so wrong, especially around this time, with you gone. How can I, or anyone who knew you, for that matter, be happy without you here? Sometimes I still feel guilty about it, and when I don't, I feel guilty about not feeling guilty about it.
I don't think words can express how much I miss you. There aren't any to describe the pain and emptiness your death left behind, and there aren't any to capture the loss that we feel, and the need to have you again, and the knowing that you won't ever be here again on earth. Heaven's never seemed so far away.
I love you, I miss you.
Happy anniversary.
