día 7 24 abr 2025
Dear Mike,
I’ve been missing you. Not just the version of you that was close in those rare, beautiful moments—but all of you. Even when you weren’t around, you were still “there.” That silent kind of presence that somehow felt like a thread tied to my heart.
I know we didn’t get much time. And yet, what we did have felt full—like something sacred. I don’t regret any of it. But I’d be lying if I said I’m not hurting still.
Sometimes, I want you to feel what I feel—not to hurt you, but because it would mean you saw what this meant to me. That it mattered to you too. At the same time, I know you carry so much already. Especially when it comes to your daughter. I saw that in you—how it shaped your choices, how it held you back from giving more to us. And I don’t want to add more weight to your heart.
I just hope you’re okay with the decisions you made. That you can look at them without running from yourself. And that if you ever think of me, it’s with tenderness and truth—not guilt.
I don’t know yet how to move forward fully. I’m trying. Some days I stand still between loving you and letting go. But I’m here, with open eyes and a soft heart, learning how to hold it all.
I truly hope you’re finding peace. And I truly hope I find mine too.
Always,
B