Flynn

“I’m didn’t know he was still so significant in your life.”

I’m not sure he ever won’t be. He at some point was my whole life, he was the sun I revolved around. It was unhealthy, really. He was the only person in the world who put me at a priority. I could’ve laid anything on the table, the worst of the worst of me could’ve been placed in front of him, and he would’ve looked me in the eyes and said “I love you, still” and meant it with every fiber of his being. He knew me when I was at the bottom of the barrel. When I was weak, irrational, dramatic, and broken. There were days would I would sit in my truck and scream, wondering why I hadn’t driven into a tree yet, and he would call me. Hushing me until the tears subsided and I could breathe again. It almost felt like he was there, holding me, making it all okay. He didn’t hide any of himself from me. There weren’t parts of him I felt like I couldn’t see. He was honest with me even when he didn’t want to be. I hope he could say the same for me, because it sure as hell felt like it. I wasn’t afraid of him. I was able to be close to him and love him and prosper in our relationship without fear of him saying “too far, I didn’t sign up for this.” I never had doubt that he loved me. There was not a day I thought “oh he’s in this for himself” or “he doesn’t mean it”. It was all about me with him and it was all about him with me. He would’ve walked across the world for me, and I him. There weren’t lengths we wouldn’t go to help each other. It’s like he always knew what I needed, even when I didn’t know, he did. He knew me better than I knew myself and loved me for it. You don’t find that in people, but I found that in him. And here’s the thing, I don’t know if there is someone out there who will be that again. Because that’s not something you just stumble across. That’s not walking in a forest and finding an oak tree. It’s rare. It’s almost impossible. And how anyone could loss that and not have it eat them up inside every single day I do not understand. I will be so proud of myself when there is a day I don’t think about him. Because this is brutal. Losing him is absolutely brutal. It’s manageable, though. So I let life do it’s thing and trust that I’ll go where I need to go, and I’ll remember what I need to remember, and that one day I’ll write a book.