I tell him about you.

I tell him all about you. I laugh at your attempts to set me up with a Starbucks barista who really just wanted to take our order and never see us again. I cry at your pain. It is all mine. Your moments of pure joy, were my moments of pure joy. Your pain cut through us both like a sharp knife. I tell him so I won’t forget. I tell him because one of the saddest things in the world, to me, is the fact you will never meet him and he will never meet you. He would make you laugh. He does that self-deprecating, underdog thing you would have rooted for. He would have admired you in every way because you are the literal meaning of the words ‘strength’ and ‘determination’. You would have debated and playfully argued. He would have feared you. And loved you. I tell him about your past. I tell him about your journey. I tell him about your final destination but I tell that story with tears strolling down my face and onto his.

 

I tell him because with each passing day you get further from me.

I tell him because I am scared.

More than anything I am petrified that one day I will wake up and I will forget how you would sip your tea.

I tell him because you were mine and now he is too.

 

– Christina.

My one and only.

A note from Spring of 1999.

That smile, in the morning makes me come alive.

She is so beautiful.

The tiny hands, feet, the laugh, the chat, the calling of my name makes me feel so special.

I love her more than my own life.

I watch from the window as she plays in the wind.

There is so much happiness in her smile.

I fight, every day because tomorrow will be special.

She will be there and my life will go on.

-Ali.

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