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You, you, you…

This month, I have had the urge to pick up my phone and call you. Just to have that two hour long free flow of words between us.

So much I would tell you.

I realize, this is going to happen to me the rest of my life. I got the boys key chain urns for your ashes. I’m going to get Dylan a little tag that says. “My Hero”. Jake’s will say “My Immortal”. I’ll get Mik her necklace around Valentines day because it is more expensive. Hers will say, “SnS”, as will mine. Mine will be a lover’s heart. Not that we were lovers, but you were my soul mate and I loved you so fucking deeply. I really learned so much about unconditional love by having you as my friend. True besties, are closer than lovers in a way because unlike some of my lovers, you knew everything, and the same it was with my knowledge of you and some of your lovers, or would be, should have been, your lovers. Mik’s will be a mother and child embrace. She loved the one I picked out for her.

Mik is driving. Has a job, bought herself a car and is living with her BF. Not Mason. Mason blew it with her, she busted him cheating because he left a message session open on his phone. Her BF is the tall lanky kid she went to his prom with.

Jake is with a new girl. I don’t know her name. I’ve not met her, but she has helped him feel something good again, since you died. The whole drama with baby mama, and her shit really fucked Jake up for a while. So did losing you. I am happy to see him smile and he tells me all the time, “I Love you Auntie!” He warms my heart with how giving he is with his love.

Dylan has been a steady moving ship. He’s so mellow and level headed, till he’s not. I don’t think he loses it very often anymore and when he has lost it, guess who is always involved, yanking his chain? Yep. Jake. But they are so close. Jake definitely loves his big brother. It really is something to see the tenderness between them at times. Dylan, I worry about at times because I can’t imaging him not flashing back on finding you, picking you up and driving to the ER like a bat out of hell, only to have the hospital send you to Plaza Medical Center.

So much time slipped by between the start of your stroke, and getting you the proper medical treatment you needed. I wouldn’t feel such a loss, had you not filled a part of my life so completely. I love, that even as you were fighting to die, we shared laughter. I love that even as you were fighting to die, you KNEW I had your back. I love that even as you fought to die, I KNEW your thoughts and feelings by looking into your eyes. My beautiful soulmate, how I miss your laughter and love. I can’t believe in four evenings, it will be two years since I last heard your voice and words.

I have been teary as of late, and I accept certain times of the year will hurt more.

No one has forgotten Tristan. No one but your mother communicates with him because she and What’s His Name are thick as thieves. Imagine that.

Love you forever.

SicknSin Always,



One Year (plus one day)

Whabbit and Mel - Copy

Yesterday was one year since you let out your final breath as you arrived at the end of your journey.

What have I learned since then?

I realize that in a way, I’ve sort of grown up a bit. All those fears and issues I would have with life, you know the ones that we would always come back to in conversation, have had to be dealt with on my own. I didn’t have the safety net of you; the one person I could say anything to.

At first it was chest grabbing and crushing. I’d feel the panic start and that buzzing cycle that runs through an ever thinking brain, full of “what-ifs”. I have sort of learned over the last year that when I can’t reach out to you, I won’t explode. My world won’t explode but, I’ve had to resolve MY issues, on my own. That, or suffer the consequences of the cycle of obsessive thinking.

Over time, I’m learning to actually walk the rope of life on my own. Some days it is hard, other days, “I got this, girl.” Always though, I miss you and am grateful for you. Regardless of every thing you did and didn’t do to yourself, my hurt, anger, sadness…you have taught and continue to teach me much. I know I’ll never have a fill in for you, but I will always be a better friend, because of us.

I don’t feel guilty anymore for how I feel about your kids. They are mine now. We will always have a bond because of you and I will always be a tie to you, with them. I’m pretty sure you would be OK with that. Living, and watching your children grow and live, will honor you.. I will never be you to them, but I am Auntie and I will there when they need a mom figure to turn to.

The plus one day…

I woke up this morning, went out back to smoke in the frosty darkness. I thought:

So I, am 1 today. One year ago today I woke up to live without you holding my hand. I’ve been doing it one my own for a year and a day now. I’m pretty sure I am going to make it. It does feel like it will be ever so much longer without you here. I miss your laugh and you quick witted, cutting humor. I miss your love, though I know it is still there following me, as mine still does you. It’s the loss of physical you. It’s made me feel so selfish because all of this grief has been about me. My sadness. My loss. My feelings. Me, me me.

I still cry, just not as often. I just went to get a tissue to wipe my eyes and saw your ashes in the slender vile. I had taken them out the other night because I was debating them taking you with me on the one year day; to have you close to me. Instead I left you here. When I saw the vile I began to really cry. Holding the vile close to try and hug what I have left of what physically held your beautiful soul and then tucking you back in my safety place.

I also realize that everyday, the randomness of death touches someone. If you are lost, wandering, not knowing how to deal with your grief and reading this… I am so sorry for your loss. There is nothing I can say to you to make anything make sense, or stop hurting, but I do understand grief, and I am sorry you are here. My only words I can even attempt to share, the words I hang onto in the darkest moments are that Love…never dies. Physically, it changes how you live it, but it never dies, because it’s pure energy. I know that Melissa’s energy went back to beginning so it didn’t just die. It absorbed back into where it originated from. I originated from this place, and so did you. I just haven’t always recognized the moments that it still touches me, but a few times I have. Those little moments keep me going.

So, one year, plus one day. I still love you.


366 Days


Three hundred and sixty-six days have come and gone since we took you off life support.

I’ve had so many firsts and one year marks that I’m sorta numb. My first birthday without you. The one year since we last spoke on the phone. The one year anniversary of the stroke. Your first Birthday, after you died. The first anniversary of removing your life support. There are just so many moments like that.

The oldest boys, plus Joey (I hear you laugh) were here Christmas eve and Christmas day. We spent our first Christmas without you, together. We made your fondant for the first time, without you.

I feel invisible in this world you left behind. I can say something to Mr. Y and it’s like I am not even in the room with him, like I don’t exist in his world. My feet want to run, but my heart knows if I do, I will never see him again. So I am starting to ask myself if that is so bad, or OK? I mean, he’s NOT feeling me, so why stay?

Still, no major life choices while feeling…this.

I miss you.

Still Here


And I miss you like crazy. Sometimes I still can’t breathe.

How can this be?

The two oldest are coming over Christmas Eve and staying the night. We are going to make your fondant and chill Auntie style. Christmas day, I will make them a turkey dinner.

It seems to make sense to spend the day together and I hope that till they are married, and have familes to be with, they continue to spend the day with me.

Is that selfish of me? I know the day will suck for them and can’t imagine them wanting to be with dad and step monster. I know the say will suck for me and I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts of losing you.

I really miss you and hate that you fucking died. I’m also tired of being a functioning destroyed person. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let anyone get close to me again.







Hanging On

I’ve slipped into silence as things started to pick up and I began to feel “better”.

I colored all my silver and took the black polish off. Red adorns my fingers and toes.

I started even feeling better about Mr. Yummy and my messed up spiderweb.

But then, about three days before “Thanksgiving”, I sort of fell again. I missed talking to her yesterday, which made me miss the last year of  not having her in my life. (Am I really living yet?)

I feel like somehow, I went from being a person who actually meant something to Mr. Yummy to feeling like his booty call. Isn’t that fucked up? I live in his home, and feel like his booty call. This makes me really sad because I think back to a night a friend of his died. He text me looking for warmth. I told him had he been anyone else, I’d have taken it as a booty call. He stepped back and gave himself a check because he didn’t want to make me feel that way. I feel like if he knew I felt this way now, he would put it on me.

Maybe that is where it belongs. I don’t know anymore. I just know this next month is going to be a hard one to fake and I hope I am up to the challenge.



















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