to M

On the eve of your 11th year, I just couldn’t let the time go by without saying something. Tomorrow it’ll be 117 days since COVID has forced us into lockdown and it feels like forever since I’ve seen your face and big brown eyes.

It’s been 17 months since you’ve lived here. Somehow I’ve adjusted to this new normal, by avoiding all thoughts and feelings related to it. I try not to think too much about it because something about you being gone always hurts.

I find myself struggling with what to say when people ask how you are because I honestly don’t know. I say that you are okay because I really hope that’s true. You must be happy. I hope you’re happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you and why I could no longer fight to have you stay with me. It’s why I had to let you go.

You don’t call. The phone just keeps ringing when I call you. I can’t help but feel as though you are no longer a part of me. It feels like you’ve been ripped away and only a hole remains where you used to be. I sometimes imagine it’s only going to be a matter of time before C follows in your footsteps. A boy needs his father after all. I’m sure the planning has most likely begun for the transition. If the time comes, I won’t fight it. My fight has diminished and I don’t feel like I have the strength to go through all of that again.

You might not understand why things are the way they are but every single choice I’ve made has been for you, M. For you and C. I know at times you’ve felt torn between where your allegiance must lie and that’s another reason why I had to let you go. I made the decision to become the ‘bad’ person because that feeling is something I never wanted you to have to carry with you.

No matter what happens in this life M, I only want you to know that you and C are my greatest creations. I hope you have an amazing year. Happy birthday, my boy.