6/18/09
7:40 p.m.
H,
It's your birthday today.
You already know that, of course. And I've never forgotten it.
Was it wrong of me to dread this? The first year I couldn't get you a present anymore? The first time in over twelve years when I wouldn't show up at your doorstep with a platter of peanut-butter cookies?
The first time I won't be sitting with your family for dinner tonight?
All of these firsts. It makes me wonder how many more there will be.
I wish that I haven't felt the urge to pick up the phone and call you about a hundred times. I wish that I haven't thought about you all day. I wish that I didn't care anymore.
Wow. That sounds very pathetic of me, doesn't it?
Well, it's the truth. And I don't want to lie to you like I used to.
That's all you ever wanted, right? The truth?
You've always been the honest one. Not me.
I still wonder why you ever gave me so many chances. So many opportunities to set things right. You gave me everything when I deserved nothing.
And I ask myself why every day.
I hope one day that question will be able answered for me in one way or another.
And I hope that you've had the most beautiful, memorable birthday. I really do. Because even if I haven't moved on yet, I'm glad that you have. You deserve to live well.
You deserve everything that I wasn't able to give you.
-L
• • • • • •
Tears dripped from my chin onto the paper. I gently folded the letter and stowed it away.
And then I slept. A long, restless sleep.
Would I ever sleep peacefully again?
