Today is your birthday, the first turn around the sun you were not here to see the completion of. I sent letters to your mom, your wife, and P. Everything I write, say, think feels so useless. I cried and cried, staining the envelopes. How I miss you, such a strange thing to say when we only spoke or saw each other every few years but it is true. I didn’t realize how much I was relying on you to be in the world as long as me. I reached out to TM. I told her I’d welcome a chance to reminisce about you. I was scared, thought she would feel like it was weird. Maybe she doesn’t know I know you two dated after our divorce. I was surprised when I heard about the trip to Brazil with M. and T., why I’m not sure. Did you stay in our old place, the one you got in the divorce?
How I would have loved to see the coastal towns with M. and T. If someone else had to go instead of me I’m glad it was TM. She is the only other person who really knew your encyclopedic musical knowledge and tastes. It is strange to have memories of the three of us, where we are the married couple and she is the work friend. Now we come together as your ex-wife and ex-girlfriend. I cried just seeing her name show up in my email feed. She said my name in her inbox made her cry, too. A living connection to you. They are finite and getting fewer each year. We decided we would get together at some point in the future and go to all the places here in the city that you loved. Late last night I walked over to the old place on Bush Street. It is empty, newly painted, clearly the owners are getting ready to sell. I walked up the steps we walked up a hundred times, and touched the door knob.
There is still no sign of you. I haven’t felt you anywhere, not even in dreams. I’d give anything to dream about you. I watched a show where the main character’s husband died. Of course she got a sign. I got mad and yelled It doesn’t fucking work like that and turned it off.
I’ve been looking at your picture again. For awhile I couldn’t. I still feel the same way I did the first time I saw you at that summer job, when I knew, KNEW I was going to marry you. Something in your face, your intelligent eyes, so calming to me. It’s so hard to believe that the face I am looking at on my laptop screen, the face I knew and remember so well, is no more. My heart cries against it, still.