I wish the number 4 wasn’t so important to us.

Every time I watch the news I flip between relief and sadness that you aren’t here to experience this world, and the total fuckery we find ourselves in.

I still can’t hear those songs.

I haven’t been able to watch that movie again, every time I try I end up turning it off.

Sometimes, the envy I hold for your non-existence scares even me.

I can’t look at Jason Ritter without thinking of you.

I always half intend to actually go to that Polish festival we found, but I probably never actually will.

Every concert I’ve been to has been a little bit for you.

This year my desire to have you here has been less for me, more because your support was so needed.

Grief is love’s unwillingness to let go.

Today will always knock the wind out of me.

Paint’s Peeling

Miss you