I missed your birthday.
I guess I thought if I didn't acknowledge it, it wouldn't come.
But it did. It came and you weren't here to celebrate.
I'm sorry I couldn't call or stop by to sing a sloppy version of the birthday song with my crew. I'm sorry there was no cake from Ann's, shared by all the people you love most. I'm sorry I couldn't bring myself to drive by the cemetery, even days later. But most of all, I'm sorry I miss you so much because Heaven must be beautiful and it's completely unfair for me to want you here.
Still, I do.
I miss you every day, but especially on every March 22nd from now on.
