purple sweater

Dear William,

Here are the things I remember about you: the smell of your worn-out blue hoodie. The way you called me “your girl.” How your hands felt. The way you looked like an excited little boy whenever you smiled. Your letters. How my heart flipped over inside my chest every single time you kissed me. Your startling blue eyes. Your immense sense of responsibility. Your profound lack of musical skill. Your silly hats. The way you looked over at me when we drove down the highway at night. Your love of adventure.

Here are the things I have forgotten about you: the sound of your voice. The rough feeling of your beard against my face. Your laugh. How much fun we had together. The reason I hung back after class that day to talk to you in the first place. Your dogs’ names. Your favorite band. The first thing you said to me.

Here are the things I wish I had forgotten about you: The last thing you said to me. The way you looked at me on August 18th. The times you broke down and cried. The way you changed. The way you acted on November 20th. The smell of your shampoo. Every night we spent together. How much I loved you.

After you died, I tried to stop thinking of you as “the love of my life” and tried to start thinking of you as “my deceased ex-boyfriend.” We had already broken up twice when you died, but people said they were “sorry for my loss,” as if our two messy splits had never happened at all. Now, I take comfort in your death every day. Not because I wanted you to die, but because it is easier to live without you if I know there’s no other way it could be.

I spent one-ninth of my life as “your girl.” No matter how many times I say I’m getting over your death and the end of our relationship, I cannot forget this.

I think of you in every moment of every single day I’m still breathing.

K.