New Life

So, in the interest of being messed up, I miss Jason tonight. My therapist asked me yesterday to name the three best things that came out of our relationship. The number one thing was that he introduced me to recovery, the second being that the move and back from NC was the greatest adventure of my life thus far. I couldn 't think of a third thing and somehow that slays my heart. What does it mean to love and what do you do about it? Did I really love him? I don't know, but my journals say that I did and that I felt something cosmic that I can't seem to reproduce by myself.


I miss him, or do I? I miss the sober Jason that I met. I don't miss the drunk Jason. He was long gone before he physically died. I know that with all my heart. And yet? The sadness that if he had hung on he may have had the relief and happiness that I now enjoy? Damn. It slays me tonight. Sometimes I wish he was here so I could beat the shit out of him. Sometimes I wish he was here so I could make love to him. It's a toss up I guess. It still hurts, but it's getting better. He's not here. I accept that. He's never coming back. I accept that, too. And what do I do about it? I don't cry as much and I don't despair as much, but I sure as hell feel sad a lot.