I think we can agree on this. Time apart has done us well.

Glimpses of you sporadically reveal themselves to me. And each time it is a sucker punch to see you. Happy, healthy. A good sucker punch, as much as one can be. Yes, my heart seizes and my stomach lurches and the blood rushes to my brain.. but once all of that has calmed down, there is a gentle knowingness. The truth that together we were dying, and apart we are healing.

I cannot say I’ve let go of you. I think of you often, in my wakefulness and sleep. What are you doing? How are you fairing? Who are you becoming?

I am no longer privy to this information and I fight the urge to see if I can get it through the internet.

It’s not my job to care anymore.

And to another point, I know whatever is on there won’t be real. We never revealed the truth of our thoughts and feelings and circumstance in such a public fashion.

Even as the days get easier and the aches get further apart, I still sit in shocked silence when I realize it’s only been a handful of months, a couple of seasons. Barely any time at all, and with just a glimpse of your image, I’m thrown right back to where we were.

Under the night sky, the haze of smoke, the fire of your hand on mine. The emotion of love swallowing us in the midst of the audience surrounding.

Then again, under a different night sky. Your hand tugging mine, our lips briefly touching, the moment over in an instant.

My first true kiss and I barely felt it.

You were already gone.

And I was alone.


“Why would you want to be with anyone you only fight with?”

It’s been asked of me every time you come up in conversation with the few who knew that we ever were an “us.” I usually say that the passion, even if merely anger, was my reason for lingering as you weaved in and out of my life.

But that’s not all there is to it.

And we both know that I did my own fair share of weaving.

Maybe no one will ever know the depths of what we shared, the rope we extended to each other – at first pulling upward, then tumbling down.

The reason we had to sever it.

Maybe not even we.

But no matter what it was the brought us together and tore us apart…

I hope you know all that I think and feel and hope for you is goodness and freedom and joy.

Happy Birthday, Mr. MTBR.

I pray this is your best year yet.