I’m missing you. I missed you before you gave up on life and ended yourself. The longer I had without conflict the more I remembered why I loved you and how much. Now that you’re dead all I can do is remember how loving you were even when you were driving me crazy.

Our communication was inherently flawed. The passion and the pain were equally powerful.  No one has ever or will ever love me as much as you did. I haven’t forgotten all the turmoil and the rage and the fighting or the threats, but that wasn’t you anymore. You were consumed by your addiction and it was taking your mind and your soul away from us.

I should have called you that Sunday. I will have to live with that. I don’t know if I could have prevented you from taking your life but maybe hearing your son’s little voice would have been enough. I believe it would have.

I believe it could have been enough. I believe that God was telling me to call you. I believe you came to me to help alleviate my pain and I love you so much for that. I will raise our boy the best I can. I will continue to miss you and love you for the rest of eternity.