Mothers Day. I’m laying in bed, not really awake yet and I get a text. Even though it’s Mothers Day I know who its from. I just know. I roll over and try and will myself to not look at my phone. It lasts about two minutes. I reach for my phone and I am right. I look at his name. He used to always be the top text in my phone. We texted so much. Now he remains the last. Always. I can’t make myself delete his texts.
“Good morning Alabama. Happy Mothers Day!”
I stare at Robbie’s name in my phone. He is the top text but I know it won’t last. I look thru my pictures and find one of him. I look at the one he sent me from his parents house last year. I am sure, looking at that picture that he had someone take it just so he could send it to me. He is looking right at the lens, looking right at me, thinking of me, I know. Why can’t I touch this picture and take us both back to that moment? A moment of happiness for us, and for me, a moment of hope. Hope for a future I didn’t think I’d ever have.
I miss him and I miss how he used to feel about me. He overwhelmed me with all the attention he gave me. In a good way. A good morning text, texts throughout the day and a final marathon phone call before bed that could last six hours. I rarely got sleep last year but I didn’t mind. I was busy falling in love.
“Thank you, Robbie. I appreciate it “.
He is already dropping to the bottom again.