Dear Oscar,

We are still in transition, you haven’t left yet. We will let our children know at the end of the month and then it will all be real. It has been a virtually impossible task to merely attempt to get over you when we are still sharing the same bed. Two strangers.

It is all too much. When we’re on the same page, we are brilliant. These moments are still latched on to me. We make love and your essence infuses with mine. Us. Two pillars of fortitude for our two little people. When we work, we are relentless. Fierce with love.

Have you forgotten that I was a child when you met me? You finished raising me. I was so lost, but so were you. I was 15, you were me and 14 more. Do you know how hard this has been for me? In almost a decade, you are all I’ve known. Can you at least pretend it burns your flesh and that you are gasping for air as I am? Are you forcing the blood to beat through your veins with the stealthy hole punched through your whole chest? I am.

You were going to be forever.

You agree with your mistakes but silence is all you can muster. It is not enough. Surpassing more than enough is not enough.

God will tell you how much I loved you, lest that old poison devour your every waking moment.