Dear LeRae;

  I opened the box today – the box you made for me for my birthday. The box you decoupaged the picture of the barn on. The box I keep our special messages in. The box I love, because it’s from you.

  There are so many memories in that box. Not all are tangible, but precious, special memories just the same. All I had to do was open it, and the memories came flying out like butterflies floating on the breeze. There’s a letter in there I wrote to you a few months after you left, and even though I knew better, I read it anyway. And my heart bled.

  I still miss you so much. Most people don’t understand it, and I think a lot of them are tired of hearing it, but I don’t care. I will talk about you and our adventures until the day I die, and then you and I can share the memories all over again.

  We packed a lot in those few, short years, you and I. Memories enough for a lifetime, because they have to be. They’re all I have. And even though they hurt (a lot), I love those memories as I loved my friend. As I still love my friend. And yes – I’m sitting here feeling sorry for myself today because we’ve missed so damn much. It’s just not fair. I miss not only our travels, but our birthday dinners, and the birthday drinks – my margarita, and your strawberry stormy. I miss those late-night talks when we both knew the other would still be awake, because we always were. And God I miss the laughs. Those side splitting, eyes watering, pull-to-the-side-of-the-road laughs. No one has ever been able to make me laugh the way you did.

  I wish I could talk to you right now. There’s so much going on, and I’m handling all of it so badly. I need your words of wisdom. Maybe a kick in the pants. I need your ear, your shoulder, your friendship. Tell me what I should do. Please. Because I’m so lost right now I can’t see my way through. I’m trying so hard not to let the hopelessness, and the despair bowl me over, but it’s like this big, black fog all around me. I can’t see how to go forward. I'm stuck. And I’m sad. I’m just so fucking sad. I’m sinking, and I need your advice. You always had the best advice.

  If nothing else, please let me know you’re ok, and that you’re happy. Tell me the place where you are is really a better place. Tell me all of this is really worth it. Just talk to me. I miss you.