May 5, 2026 — Day 2, No Contact: The First Warm Day Without You

May 5, 2026 — Day 2, No Contact: The First Warm Day Without You

Today is the first really nice day of the season and, of course, it makes me think of you.

I keep going back to those days we would sneak away from work and meet at the Cape Cod Canal. How something so simple felt like our own little world. I used to look forward to those texts from you asking if I could get away. My whole day would shift the second I saw your name pop up.

Those bike rides. They weren’t JUST bike rides. They were freedom. They were us.

Riding side by side, laughing, singing to our music like no one else existed. The way you would look over at me while we were riding, your eyes so full of love, it’s something I don’t think I’ll ever forget.

And I smile thinking about how you always came prepared. Drinks, snacks, everything packed into your backpack, and that huge sweat mark on your shirt by the end of it. It was so YOU. Thoughtful in a quiet, steady way.

Walking out on the jetty, sitting at the very end with you, the water all around us, those moments felt still in a way life rarely is. Safe. Close. Real.

I miss that. I miss you in those moments.

Today hurts in a softer way than yesterday. It’s less sharp, but deeper somehow. Like I’m starting to really feel the absence of all the little things that made us us.

But I’m also realizing that those moments mattered because they were real. They don’t disappear just because we’re not living them anymore.

I got to experience that kind of connection, that kind of joy, that kind of love.

And even though I don’t have it right now, I know what it feels like.

I loved you. I love you.