I get this weight on my chest from time to time, a weight that gets heavy. Very heavy.

But it’s a weight that’s very difficult for me to look square in the eye and acknowledge because like, I love her and I miss her. A lot. But there are times when I'm so fucking MAD at her. For not being here. For missing out on so much.

I get mad because I wish she would have made better choices. I think about the years she wasted away drinking when she could have been cultivating a relationship with me and I feel cheated. I get mad when I think about how I felt like I had to scramble to come to terms with our history and make amends when it was determined she was living on borrowed time.

I get mad that we didn’t have more time together, that most of the time we did have together was so tumultuous. I get mad because for a long time I felt like I wasn’t worth her pulling herself together and getting her life back on track.

I hate to say it, but there it is. I get so mad at her sometimes and it gets really heavy and it hurts. It really hurts.

I think I'm at the point in my life where I want to let go of the anger and the hurt and the heaviness – I don't want to keep carrying it with me. I'm taking baby steps but I feel ready, now more than ever.

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