Just Another Single Mother

I’ve stopped, for the most part, talking about S. It’s too difficult to explain to people who didn’t witness the things we’ve been through. Summarizing our relationship into caption sized blurbs for the sake of time make everything seem trite. I’m tired of seeing how little people understand or care. And it’s just not worth it.

Now a days I just wait till I’m by myself and talk to him directly. I don’t believe he’s here anymore but I do pray he gets my messages. I know I need to let go of him but I don’t want to. I did that once already and it fucking killed him. That’s probably an overly dramatic statement but it feels accurate.

I think about him everywhere I go. I realized today he took me to most of the places I’ve been in Seattle for the first time. He’s everywhere. And nowhere.

I just wish I could put my face on his warm naked back one more time and kiss him goodnight. I pretend that very thing as I go to sleep some nights. I’m trying to collect all these memories, but like wisps of smoke they slip in and out of my perception.