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Saturday, September 20, 2014


You are one half of six
sugar-spun years of

I remember [us
rolling in the snow] wanting
to call [us walking down
the road] you on the phone
and [us talking late at night] how
difficult it was to imagine [us eating,
laughing] your tone
through the texts.

I remember (vividly)
the feeling of [waiting for your
letter in the mail] bone-deep
sadness before [rushing to write back]
leaving for two weeks, holding [the care
packages we exchanged] on to
a small, doubtful hope
that [you visiting me, me visiting
you] when I returned it
would all be [finishing
the second scrapbook
for you, proud] over.

After those
last long months, it was hard to
remember you [weeping to my brother
on the phone] without [fighting
tears in my office at work] feeling
like [sobbing under the covers
at night] crying.

These days
it's still hard,
but I'm
remembering [learning]
how to [how to forgive]
forget and [you] let