Validated

I miss being validated.  I miss having someone who knows me inside out say, “I understand.”  I miss having someone I could tell everything to.  I miss having someone who knows all of my stories so that I didn’t have to start new ones without all the history.  I miss having someone say, “I can see why you feel that way” and leave it at that.  I miss having someone who listened without having to “fix me.”  I miss having someone who didn’t tell me “not to feel that way.”  I miss having someone who let me make mistakes and loved me even more for it.  I miss having someone who said “I’m sorry” first.  I miss having someone who was stronger than me.  I miss having someone who helped me to feel normal and I didn’t even know it until he was taken away. 

This is my litany; my long and repetitious list of what I cannot easily replace.  The day on which he died grows further away from my current life and I fear the day in which I will have lived more days without him than with him.  Nothing in this loss can be reversed, especially not time.  Yet, just because he died doesn’t mean that each sub-sequential day naturally brings me back to a comfortable routine.  Without obligation to be reasonable, loss leads me down a path to what I miss more – not less.