Well, I am not sure what inspired me to open up my drafts today, but I did. I wondered if I could handle this one. I opened it. I am not sorry that I did. But, it saddens me. I had written this letter to him near the end of January 2009, about a month before he died. I fucking miss him. I miss being able to call him and hear his sexy voice, his infectious laugh, his empathy for whatever I was dealing with. I am so grateful though, knowing that I can now ‘call’ him anytime, any day. I know he is with me when I need to feel support and love, to not feel so alone, to feel courage to do what needs to be done. So, in posting this, I also send out a prayer to everyone who knew him and was blessed to have him in their lives, for whatever amount of time. And a reminder…

Do what you need to do. Say what you need to say. Death happens, every day. Appreciate life in the meantime, yours and those around you.

Dearest Christopher,

I would have to admit that it was ‘love at first sight’ for me. You struck me instantly with your platinum blonde hair and fancy self heading down the stairs at rehab when we first met. Thank God for the established boundaries that we abided by – keeping the intensity of ‘us’ at a pace we were both able to handle. Thank God we didn’t meet as teenagers. Surely we would have destroyed one another with the intensity.

Are we twins separated at birth? Were we married in previous lives? What is it that connected our hearts instantly that day on the stairs?

And what kept us connected even when we weren’t speaking to one another. Neither of us able to handle the level of love and anger that was sparked by the confusion of addiction and harm reduction.

You are so precious to me that there really aren’t words. Telling people that you are my ‘best friend’ seems so cheesy, so not even close to touching the level of our relationship. I am blessed with countless friends and special people in my life. Something is different with you though. And, I know, is different about you with your other friends too. I know full well that I am not the only one to love you from the start. Your heart, your intensity, your laughter, your smile, your grace and humility. You, my dear, you touch people in ways that not many have the ability to do.

And you do so effortlessly.

I can’t ignore the pain we have grown though either. You have seen me at my worst. I have seen you at your worst. We have picked one another up off of the floor, barely dressed, and helped one another walk again.

I so wish that I could be there with you right this moment, to hold you, to cry with you, to laugh with you, to feed you and pray with you.

You are the only person on this planet who fully and instantly understands me. You know how I feel, how I think, how I process the world around me. You are not afraid of my rage, my sadness, my grief, or my anything.

I remind myself regularly these days that I will have more access to you once you have died than I do now…