IB, you know there were times when I wished that I didn't grow up the way I did, that I didn't believe what I believe in?
It would have been a lot easier that way.
Right now, I could still be telling you about how my day went. I could be sending you selfies after playing around excitedly with my makeup. I could be telling you "I love you" and littering my messages with as many kissy-face emojis as frequently as I could.
I could be doing all that instead of praying for another round of God's tranquilizer-like calm to keep me stable for a while. Instead of wishing to have more dreams of you and I doing the most mundane of things, like lining up to buy popcorn. Instead of revisiting old memories and visions of us sitting on our porch, looking out at our front yard with our kids and golden retrievers (aka. the baby herders) running around.
It wasn't easy then, IB, and it's not any easier now. I'm not looking forward to any more pain, but I suppose it will come.
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