3 months.

I woke up this morning to the phrase "3 months" running through my head over and over again. I put my blanket over my head and squeezed my eyes together and laid there in bed for a good 10 minutes. (As if that would somehow make the morning come slower and ultimately delay the day.) But I soon found out that was impossible, because the sun slowly rose and birds began to chirp, and I realized that the rest of the world was continuing, so I might as well try.

Today marks 3 months.
These past days have been especially difficult, because this month they land perfectly on each of the "original" days. Meaning that the day of the accident (the 6th[though technically it was past midnight]), the "in-between life and death day" (the 7th), and the day of his death (the 8th) have all lined up on Monday-Wednesday. This has made me relive everything in detail, and my mind wanders back to where and what I was doing exactly--even down to what I was wearing. It feels so fresh and so new, even 91 days later. I can even still feel that terrible feeling of utter helplessness; my heart beating (practically hyperventilating) and my hands shaking, trying to hold onto something in my spinning world but finding nothing; so scared and so tiny and so paralyzed. Those feelings come back instantly, as do smells of the hospital and memories of doctors' faces.

Monday was especially hard. I sat in my room and just thought how 3 months ago that day, I was innocently sitting at school; in some classes even sitting next to Micah. I just can't believe how I casually said goodbye to Micah, came home, did homework, and innocently went to bed. I can't believe how I had no idea that I would soon be woken up by my dad and everything would change so quickly.

I wish I could have warned that naive Becca about what was to come. I try not to spend much time thinking how the accident could have been prevented--(I just don't let myself go there because I know it turns into a cycle)--but I do sometimes wish I could somehow let myself know what was to come. Maybe if my current Becca could have sent just one teensy warning flag to the Becca-of-the-past that night...would that have made things easier? Would it have made this 3 month anniversary and other anniversaries to come a little more bearable, just because we would have known?

Oh, but maybe not. Maybe knowing all along what was to come would have been worse. Maybe its just going to be terrible no matter what; and I'm thinking in circles and forgetting that either way Micah is not here, and THAT right there is what's wrong and will always be wrong.

Micah Micah Micah. I miss you so much. I think of all the things we could have done in these 3 months, but instead I am listing things we haven't done. Musical, banquet, the last day of school, graduation, convention...spending all summer together. Doing the random things that brought us so much joy; though in the end it was just the fact that we were doing them together. Stargazing and going to the beach and watching 4th of July fireworks and talking on the phone and holding hands and hanging out with your family and going shopping and catching fireflies and laughing and loving. You are supposed to be here soaking in the quietness of this summer night. You are supposed to be sleeping in your bed right now with the night air blowing around your attic room and the crickets chirping outside. We are supposed to be doing all these summer things together.

But you are not here. I know you are here somewhere; maybe you are around me; or maybe you are now within beauty and love and happiness, and you cannot ever truly leave unless they do--but that is not as fulfilling sometimes as just plain "here." I think you know that I have been taking what you've taught me, and using it in my own life to somehow continue to "live"...but I also think that you'd understand that on days like today, on anniversaries, its extra ok to cry and be sad that you are not here.