The fog forming on my window tells me that the mornings here and you'll be gone before too long.

I hate that you haven't called. Yeah, you have more to worry about, yes, you have a family. But you can call me. Like you said you would. I haven't seen or heard from you since you were going in. It's been three months.
You know how this makes me feel. Like i don't matter anymore and you finally got your priorities straight enough to cut me out of them. And here i am thinking about you every other day and i can't fucking talk to you. I have to find out whats going on from patrick.

I had a customer that came in on saturday saying she found out she had cancer that same week. She started crying, and somehow apologized for it, left the store with tears running down her face and still managed to stay positive. I practically ran to the back room to sit with my manager and pull myself together. I cried. I cried because i remember being there with you. And for me, i'm still there. I'm still in that place where i'm coping and hoping for the best. Because you won't talk to me, what am i supposed to think? Because your family hasn't contacted me saying you're not doing well? Everything is just okay?

And its almost your baby's first birthday. I am going to do what i said i'd do. Make her a card with every intention she'll read it and know of me when she's older. Know how much i love her because we're almost hoping she's a part of you. Because you already love her with all of your being.

And if i don't matter anymore, i'll still make her cards. Every birthday.