But dearest friends, alas, must part.
Dear Heather,
I’ve spent a lot of time stuck in traffic lately. I mean BAD traffic. Traffic that doesn’t move for ten minutes at a time. Sometimes in ninety degree heat while my A/C isn’t working and I’m convinced my car will overheat at the worst possible moment. (Thankfully it hasn’t.)
I’ve spent a considerable amount of that time stuck in traffic next to, in front of, diagonal to, and right behind motorcycles that looks just like yours.
Every single time I see one, my heart breaks for you. The scene of your accident — that I obviously couldn’t have seen — flashes before my eyes and I feel like I can’t breathe. My mind plays it like a movie, over and over. It makes my stomach hurt.
It’s been almost one year; I can’t believe it. I miss you and I still can’t believe you’re gone.They say if a person dies in a great tragedy they often stick around. Well, if you’re here, I hope you know how missed you are.
It’s too bad you aren’t here; you would have laughed your ass off at the story of what I just did this afternoon. And I totally wish you were here to help me figure out what I should go to school for.What the heck am I good at? What would best suit me as a career?
Sigh. Of course you can’t answer. I just wish you were here, that’s all.
I’m sending my love to wherever you are (and hoping you’re reading this as I type).
Love you always,
Ester











