It isn't fair.
It isn't fair that I can still hear your laugh as though we spoke yesterday.
It isn't fair that you gave the best hugs and then took them away.
It isn't fair that I still remember that you always smelled like coffee.
It isn't fair that I'll never again sit at the table with you drawing ballerinas on napkins.
It isn't fair that you didn't get to see the woman I've grown up to be.
It isn't fair that so much of me comes from bits of you and I never got to tell you.
It isn't fair that I don't get to show you all my favorite places in Waco, because I know you'd love it here.
It isn't fair that I can't call you on the phone to tell you Happy Thanksgiving, or Merry Christmas, or just that I miss you.
It isn't fair that every now and then a song comes on that makes me think of you and suddenly I'm crying.
It isn't fair that for the rest of my life November 18 will be the day that I lost you.
Most days I'm fine. Most days I can move past the sadness. Some days there isn't even sadness... just a slight ache in the depths of my heart that I don't let myself feel. But not tonight. Tonight I miss you. So much I almost can't breathe. Tonight the slight ache is a roaring fire of heartache that threatens to swallow me whole. And I just might let it. For a little while.
Tomorrow I'll wake up and the sadness will have dulled. You'll still be my happiest memories and I'll smile at the thought of you. But not tonight. Tonight I cry.
It isn't fair that I can still hear your laugh as though we spoke yesterday.
It isn't fair that you gave the best hugs and then took them away.
It isn't fair that I still remember that you always smelled like coffee.
It isn't fair that I'll never again sit at the table with you drawing ballerinas on napkins.
It isn't fair that you didn't get to see the woman I've grown up to be.
It isn't fair that so much of me comes from bits of you and I never got to tell you.
It isn't fair that I don't get to show you all my favorite places in Waco, because I know you'd love it here.
It isn't fair that I can't call you on the phone to tell you Happy Thanksgiving, or Merry Christmas, or just that I miss you.
It isn't fair that every now and then a song comes on that makes me think of you and suddenly I'm crying.
It isn't fair that for the rest of my life November 18 will be the day that I lost you.
Most days I'm fine. Most days I can move past the sadness. Some days there isn't even sadness... just a slight ache in the depths of my heart that I don't let myself feel. But not tonight. Tonight I miss you. So much I almost can't breathe. Tonight the slight ache is a roaring fire of heartache that threatens to swallow me whole. And I just might let it. For a little while.
Tomorrow I'll wake up and the sadness will have dulled. You'll still be my happiest memories and I'll smile at the thought of you. But not tonight. Tonight I cry.
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