I haven't fully embraced the concept of a yahrtzeit yet. I guess that's why it's your birthday that hits me like a sledgehammer.
I wrote the date down and just froze. Eighteen years, and sometimes I still feel like I'm screaming on the floor of my dorm room.
It's true that grief never really goes away. The times between feeling it just grow longer. I don't feel so guilty for forgetting things any more. I dream about you sometimes, but can never remember the details.
I just realized it's also been almost eighteen years since I wrote you a letter. I know you believed in reincarnation. Wherever your soul may be, a new high school grad, the Summerlands, or a drop of water in the ocean, I hope it feels my love, and takes comfort.
