They came to sit and dangle their feet off the edge of the world and after awhile they forgot everything but the good and true things they would do someday. –Brian Andreas
The hardest part about this entire experience is not having Shawn to walk through it with me. With every piece of the journey I encounter, I want to share it with him. I used to tell him everything. There was nothing to hide. I think this is what it means to be transparent. He could see through me. He was my most complete relationship. How do I start over? He could see the good and the bad.
I find even now on my good days, I look for him, wanting to share the details of why the day was good. There have been moments in my darker days that I want to turn around and find him standing near, ready to embrace me away from the pain. He was always good at protecting me. But, then reality strikes my wishes and I remember that he isn’t anywhere for me to find, and he isn’t available in the same way as before to share with me his side of the story and I can’t just hug him as an escape from this disaster.
I want to sit on our couch with our feet touching and tell him that my entire character has been examined and reexamined and then repeated for good measure. I want to put on our running shoes and walk around the block, because Shawn always said walking was better for our knees and I would share with him that I feel like my heart has been cut to the core and sewn up by unbelievable and amazing people around me. I want to wait up late for him to get home from work and tell him how much I miss him, while crying the kind of tears that only come from deep hurt.
The one person that I want the most to help me through my greatest loss is the person who has been lost. This seems obvious, yet more to me like a paradox.
You were simply my best part. You were my most precious friend and my most prized treasure. And now you are my sweetest memory. My feet are dangling off the edge of the world. We will do great things someday.