depotguy's blog post - An update of july 21st that will only mean something to one person

So as I am cleaning out my storage room I come across the boxes of your things. Shards of a past life slicing my heart. I find your address book with your grandpa's obituary tucked inside. I see your handwriting and I sigh. I think fondly of your habit of leaving notes. You would always tell me that someday you would give me the best gift I had ever been given. Nora Jones starts to sing (as if on cue)

Don't Miss You At All"

As I sit and watch the snow
Fallin' down
I don't miss you at all
I hear children playin' laughin' so loud
I don't think of your smile

So if you never come to me
You'll stay a distant memory
Out my window I see light doing dark
Your dark eyes don't haunt me

And then I wonder who I am
Without the warm touch of your hand

And then I wonder who I am
Without the warm tough of your hand
As I sit and watch the snow
Fallin' down

I don't miss you at all
I don't miss you at all
I don't miss you at all


I doubt such irony has ever been put so well. Again I wonder why I did this. I knew better. People warned me. In one of the boxes I found your carhart jacket. I wore it to work today.
The rest of your stuff went to goodwill

I'm keeping the jacket, and no brokeback references are required.