Just Go With It

Dear Tommy,
It's been 4 weeks since you've been gone and there are still times when I feel as though I won't make it. Like when I found your old combat boots still caked with mud underneath our kitchen table or when I pass by your room and see your laptop still open and your school bag slung on the end of your unmade bed. Things like that make my heart physically hurt, and its this unbearable kind of ache as though someone just reached inside my chest and squeezed my heart. Mom cries all the time and Dad well...that's a whole other story. And yesterday morning I was washing my face when I saw your razor sitting on the counter, there was even a few stubbles of hair still stuck to the metal. I was consumed with so much pain and I just wanted to scream.I was underwater and drowning in my own work though where no one could hear me anyway. I imagined dragging the sharp object down my forearm and watch as it cut through my pale skin and drew dark sticky beads of red blood. I wanted to do it so bad Tommy. I didn't...

Although there are small things in life that bring me joy like the way my battered Converse look hanging out the window of His truck. The taste of His minty lips. The smell of cigarette smoke when He hugs me close under the night sky littered with blinking stars. The sound of His heart beating when He sneaks in through my window at night to sleep beside me. Oh that heart-stopping grin of His, it just makes me melt. And the sound of His throaty laughter.

Adam Baker...

I know its so wrong to feel this way, I just can't help myself. But you understand though? Right, Tommy?

Loving and missing you,

Em