I think there is a fine line between holding memories dear and refusing to let someone go.
Am I afraid if I don't think of you every day you will simply cease to be? I promised you would be in this world as long as I am alive. Am I being selfish, and by not letting go, am I failing you? What would you tell me?
I miss you so much. I miss the time I could have learned more about your uniqueness. I miss the games we could have shared. The World Cup matches, what fun we would have had. I miss you because you came to depend on me as your eyes. I miss you because you shared a dark side of yourself with me. You had to have felt comfortable with me to tell me those things.
I hope I let you die the way you wanted to. I know, because I am no dummy, that Sunday was supposed to have been our last day together. The match of the season.
That Monday I had to tell you I care, so I did, and we ended up talking most of the days before you died. I know that was not your plan. Please forgive me for stealing that time from you.
Dammit, I don't want to let go.
I am hiding from the postman.
Later.
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