The year of firsts

It still hasn't been a year. A year since he has passed away.

His birthday is coming up. I don't want it to. I wish he were still here. I am starting to cry more because it's approaching. I remember his last birthday celebration so vividly. I remember everything we did.

From eating fried chicken ( I don't know why we were eating fried chicken) and playing darts at the local pub. I'm pretty sure we had Korean over the weekend.

The birthday before that we had Korean. It was my treat. Then we took sticker pictures. We were so happy then.

The first birthday I celebrated with you, we weren't going out at the time. But you already had feelings for me. We went to the strip club and had Korean afterwards.

Fuck this. I just miss you so much babe, I want you to come back. I can't stop thinking about you.

Well, this year some friends brought up the idea of going to the strip club and eating Korean for your birthday. I don't know how well I will be able to partake upon this 'celebration' because I will be having my wisdom teeth removed the day prior. But I will be damn well doing my best to be there for you. Although whomever is interested in joining, let me know.

I remember when you would work long shifts, and I would beg for you to come home. I can't do that in this situation. As much as I beg, you won't come home. You are already at home. Just not with us. Your new home. I miss you so fucking much. I wish this pain would just go away. But it never will.