That first breath I took after you left this plane? I didn't know in that moment how hard the next ones were going to be over the next days and now months. My brain couldn't even begin to compute what the absence of you was going to mean for me.
I am not selfish. I am happy that you are no longer here, in this body, suffering. No more struggling for breath. No more hospitals. No more gallon baggies of medications. No more pain. No more anything. But, also no more "you".
That void hurts. I know this is the way of things and I'm okay with that. Really really. But it doesn't stop this incessant ache. Until that moment, I had never breathed a day in this world without you in it. Your love. Your support. The laughter.
Oh my gods, your laugh. That booming, from the gut, alive with joy laugh. I never knew a person that could stand in its presence and not be cheered by the sheer force of your laugh. It terrifies me that one day I'll wake up and I won't be able to remember the exact sound of it.
You taught me everything that's good in this life. You led, not with words but by example. You showed me that it's okay to fail and fall because you showed me how to pick myself up and keep on moving. You taught me that one soft word spoken firmly can carry more weight than the threat of a hand raised in violence. Because of you, I know the only unconditional love from a man in my entire life. You gave me value and worth when I couldn't find it in myself. You loved me wholly and perfectly.
And I am adrift without your presence. I love you and I miss you but I'm not sorry you're gone. My love for you trumps the pain I feel.
