6 years.

6 years. It realized it had been six years yesterday. We were only friends for five. I've been without you for longer than I was with you. Six years of new experiences I didn't get to share with you. For six years I've had imaginary conversations. What I would tell you about whatever situation and what you would respond with. Its hard to believe I've probably had more of those conversations than ones I actually had with you.

It's wild how those short five years were so influential in who I am today. Yet, I am so different than I was then. I wish I was more of who I am now, back then, but I think a lot of people might feel that way too. I was thinking the other day about how everyone dealt with you leaving. I thought I handled it well. I know better now. I know I was care less and I have a few regrets. Not as many as I could have ended up with, but still, they're there.

It's still hard for me to go home. I don't feel like I belong there anymore. Tulsa feels more comfortable. I don't have as many anxiety attacks here. My depression isn't as crippling. I don't feel lonely. I have Jake and Henry and my friends and a job that I actually love. Home reminds me of you and all the other trauma. I haven't had anything close to that happen here. I think I run from trauma. I don't think I'll change that any time soon.

I thought I had to do something big with my life to make up for losing you. I thought I needed to fill my life with a tangible, materialistic objective. I was wrong. I wanted to replace my pain with distractions. I've moved on from that now. I just want to be happy. I want to not worry about money and when I want to do something I want to be able to do that. I have most of that now.

My goals have changed, I've changed, but I still miss you more than I ever thought was possible, and everyday I wish I could call or text you.

Until next year, I love you Steeler. I won't forget.