Oh, you. I remember you. So well, in fact. You were like a dream — in fact, I embraced you with that notion in mind. Dream.
You know how they say hindsight is 20/20? I fear that when I had you in my life, I took you for granted. I didn’t give you the appreciation you deserved. You had been there, pretty much since the beginning. When others were doubting they would ever see you again in those early weeks/months, I would stand back and say nothing. A slight smile would curl at the end of my lips, because.. I was confident in US. I knew all the work, the scheduling, the routines we had built were solid. We were a team. We made it work. We MADE it.. 2.5 years of greatness. I thought the hard times were behind us, and we had persevered with grace, dignity. We were unstoppable.
I didn’t tell you that enough. I didn’t express my gratitude enough. I didn’t remind you that you are beautiful. I didn’t let you know how much you meant to me.
I wasted time. I piddled away valuable minutes, hours. Time that I will never get back. Time that we could’ve spent together.
People warned me about this. People said this could happen — but I refused to believe it. People told me when you were there I needed to take advantage of every opportunity to be with you — but I didn’t. I found other things to occupy my time — wasteful things. Irrelevant things. If I wasn’t with you, I could’ve been productive, at least. But I wasn’t.
I fear things may never be the same. You are distant now. You come and go, sporadically — sometimes you are here, sometimes you are gone. Sometimes I force being with you, and it hurts — like I’m trying to hold on to something that wants to be let go.
I’m finding myself going to extremes to have you stay. I bought new sheets — did you notice? New pillow? New blanket? It’s fun colors and super soft — I thought you would like it. Did you see I upgraded us to a new BIGGER bed? I thought that would be a welcome change compared to the squeaky crib mattress, or pile of pillows and blankets on the floor. I’m sure it was hurting your back as much as it was hurting mine. I did this all with you in mind. I did this all for you. For us. So we could be together again — on a consistent, regular basis. Like we used to be.
As much as it hurts, I understand that this is happening. I get it. I mean, she’s growing up. This is part of life — and I’m sure these past three weeks of missing you aren’t going to be the last ones we have for the next 18 years — or forever.
But, in case I forget to tell you. In case I fail to mention. In case we never see each other again —
I love you. I miss you. Please come back. I promise I’ll be better, I’ll treat YOU better.
You. Complete. Me.
Ashley (aka the sleepless momma who is currently going through sleep regression with a cranky and tantrumy 2.5 year old –and is dog-tired and can’t help but focus on all that is lost — sleep.)
For reference: 🙂