Songs in a Minor
Nothing left but the memories of when, I had my best friend
(Through the Trees ~ Low Shoulder)
April 29, 2010
Hey,
I don't know how to write this without crying. I'm crying now. Me, a future professor, crying over something that's happened years ago. Four years to be exact. Four years to this exact day. But I guess you already knew that, huh?
How's heaven? That's stupid of me to ask. You're probably laughing at my stupidity. I feel so stupid lately. No one's here to make me look or feel smart. No one like you did. You always showcased my brilliance. And I missed it. I miss you. But again, you probably already know that.
Emma's married now. To Spinner. Spinner and Emma Mason. They're happy too. Manny's in some Hollywood scandal with some entrepreneur. Last I heard she was pregnant by him. I guess some things don't change. And Toby's dating Christy. You don't know her, or maybe you do. But she's nice. She's really good at video games. Or at least better than me.
How am I doing? Pretty bad. Damian wanted to take me out on a date but I turned him down. I don't think I'm ready to date anymore. Especially with him. After the whole thing with Emma, I just can't. Maybe in the future but not now. He's great but I'm not. I guess I never was. And even though you said I was; I know you think otherwise because of what happened on this day four years ago. I gave our son up for adoption. If I was great, I would've been a great mother as well. And what good mother gives their child up for adoption?
Do you see him? I'm sure you do. I know you do. I wish I could. I wish I could go back and never give him up. That would've stopped you from dying. I would have you both instead of writing to you once a year. Writing to you seems like the only way I can communicate sometimes. I talk to you, but I never hear your response. I pray for you, but I never see results. I think and dream of you, but then wake up. Writing is the only way to speak to someone who will probably never say anything back.
If you're reading this now, don't worry about me. I'll be fine someday. Just watch out for our son. And if you can, lead him to me. He's the only thing I have left of you.
With deepest love and regret,
Liberty Van Zandt