The Drive

I love to drive. You know that though. You know how hard it was for me to lend you my car. You know that I'd love to go for drives with you to anywhere and sit and talk on the hood of the car.

This last year I've had to travel about 20 minutes to an internship. Around 5 minutes into the drive, I pass a cemetery. Before January, I always used to wonder why on earth people would make sure there were always fresh flowers on the grave. Who would want to put that much work into a grave sight. Now I understand. I want to. I want to bring you crazy flowers and sit and talk to your head stone. I want to lay on your plot of land at night and watch the stars. When I'm overwhelmed with grief, I want to be able to look at your name etched in stone and touch it. I realize this sounds crazy, but you know I've always been crazy when it comes to you.

I understand now why people believe that when you die you go straight to heaven. It's a really comforting thought to think that you're watching from heaven. To think you can see me crying when I think about never seeing your face again. To know that you can see how all the people you left behind are coping. I know none of that is true though. I know you stay in the ground. I know you have no idea how much this affected so many people. You are now a pile of dust.

Just typing that makes my heart ache.

I used to believe in soul mates. I used to think that you were mine and I never worried about what would happen to my love life, because I knew in the end... it was you. We molded each other to be our "person". I keep remembering when you would FaceTime me at three in the morning to talk about your worries. I loved those talks, even if I was half asleep. You always asked when we would see each other again. I guess now the answer is never. I miss you.