The big 3-0

December 30th was Ari's 30th birthday. The reason I am writing this so late is cuz, well, I have been away/trying not to deal with it all but now here I am. He would have been 30. Stupid fuck. He would have had a great party or travelled to some incredible place and it would have been amazing and fun and celebratory. Instead it's a day that people get to cry. Dumb, dumb boy. I miss him like I would miss my limbs if I lost them. That is a gross thought but it is absolutely true. Not a moment goes by, still, that he isn't involved in in my mind. Maybe it is his fault that I am in this crazy funk right now; maybe I am having residual post-bday mourning. Would it be so shocking? Um, no. It would be so me.