To My Dearest Angela

I’m not ashamed to say my grief has been an ever present force. They say grief is love that has no where to go. I’ve been feeling that a lot lately as I roam out now empty halls.

Your mother tells me I should keep going, that you wouldn’t want me to sit here writting this. Maybe she’s right. Maybe sitting frozen writting letters to a daughter who will never return isn’t good for me. Still I sit here and I think.

Your team had their game today. I stopped by to show support, to cheer them on. I imagined you on that feild, kicking that ball. They won, Angela. And they dedicated that win to you. I wish you could’ve been there to cheer with them.

Your room hasn’t been touched since you last left it. I don’t have the heart to let it. Don’t have the guts to open that door and to soak in the loss.

Not until today. I promised myself, today I would face it. If not just to say I could, to take a step in a healthier path. My knuckles ached as I gripped that doorknob, I turned it slowly and pushed the door open as carefully as I could.

_Creek…_

__

It didn’t used to creek before. Maybe it was the house’s way of grieving, of acknowledging the bareness of the once bright room.

I stepped inside, and I looked around. Your paintings are still on the wall. They’re as gorgeous as ever. Teddy sits lonely on your bed, in dire need of a cuddle. I can’t bring myself to grant her that. Not yet. Your tables are messy. Seems I never succeeded in teaching you to organize them. I can’t bring myself to do that for you right now. Not like I used to.

I walked out to the balcony. You used to spend hours out here, feeling the breeze. I never understood what about it made you so comfortable. Why you insisted it was the best place to paint. Not until now. Now I understand. As I look out at the sky and the roads I understand.

I miss you, Angela. More than words can speak. I always will. But I’m glad I took this step. I needed this. I think the house did too. Maybe the wounds will begin to heal now. Maybe my grief will learn to settle. Not leave, I don’t think it’ll ever leave. I don’t think my heart will ever stop looking for somewhere to put all the love I have for you. But maybe, just maybe, it’ll calm. Maybe I’ll be able to keep going like you would want.

Keep cheering for me, my dearest Angela. I’ll beat my suffering. One goal at a time.