dear porter,

for some reason,
i thought your funeral would mean the end of my letters.
i thought i would feel better.
i thought i could continue on living like normal.
but i don't feel normal.
i feel worse.
i feel empty.

today was beautiful and sunny.
i went on a drive with baby miles
and i rolled the windows down.
the breeze felt good
after a long cold winter.
and i wished you were with me.

i had plans to drive up to the canyon.
i looked up at the cliffs all day
and debated.
but in the end,
i just couldn't do it.
i'm not ready to face them yet.
but i am determined to not let them scare me.

i find myself staring at your facebook profile
it is the last connection i have with you.
when new pictures are posted by your friends,
i just cry.
the last thing i wrote on your wall was on feb 28,
"its almost march!
which means you'll be here in like a month! 
yayyyyY!!!!!!!!"
and you said,

"Yay I can't wait! We are going to party! :)"

little did we know what march would bring.

i was so looking forward to that party...

we have moments of happiness

but they are fleeting.

far and few between.

i feel like the whole world should stop

and just wait for us to get back on our feet.

pause for a minute

while we figure out how to live without you.

cooper had a dream about you yesterday.

we were all in a room.

and you showed up.

and we knew that you had passed away.

and cooper asked you if you remembered falling.

and you said you did,

but you watched it all happen.

from outside of your body.

and i'm taking that as an answer to my prayers

and running with it.

it gives me some relief.

lost is on tonight.
you spent a week trying to catch up.
and when you finally did,
we had lots to talk about.
but we were both still so confused.
and you texted me the week you died,
and said, "i think lost is a scam.
when it's over, the producers are going to say
we called it lost because we were confused too."
and for some reason
it really really bothers me that you'll never get to finish it.
which makes it so hard for me to watch.
i feel a little guilty.

one more thing-
i just know that you would get a kick out of miles's hair.

and i can hear you laughing

and picture you holding his little fingers

and teasing him about his tight grip.

oh i wish he could remember it.

but i remember it.

and i will tell him about you.

everyday.

love you.