This was the first November that the first day of the month didn't cross my mind, but it did later. Days later when I had the time to think. I didn't feel unsure or insecure or sad. I just felt like I was existing day-by-day, as always. And that at some point this day meant something, and now I'm not so sure.
I remembered a time when this anniversary did nothing but tear me apart. I remember the first year I had to stay away from everyone and find somewhere soft to hide. I remember when just the thought of it left me feeling as raw as a sore throat trying to swallow hard against a cold wind in the winter.
I see the trees have already lost most of their leaves, and I wonder if you would have liked it here? I wonder if I would have even ended up here if you were around. I wonder where I would be at all. Because I had to learn so much without you, and sometimes that's just how life is--unfair, unyielding and unmistakably hard. Sometimes I wonder that just as I count the days, I'm counting on too much from people who don't deserve it, because the one that should have been here isn't anymore.
But I guess that's not your fault, Mamma. I'm sorry for any time I have ever felt otherwise.
Edit: I know I haven't commented on blog posts since this month started. I've just been preoccupied. But I promise to catch up on my blog reading soon. I miss you all.