A Flowered Purse

It still won't let me access titles. GRRR
Anyways. It's very funny how you can be driving along one minute and then the next a song comes on the radio and everything that was good about the day just turns to sadness. Kyle had driven my car all weekend and had put it on some old rock station. I was leaving moms, hit the freeway and UGH

Ignore the video, but the song is the song Brett picked for me, before he died. He said he wanted to play it at his funeral, to make me cry.
Like I needed any help in that department on that day. But I just started bawling and bawling while driving the freeway.
Kyle gets his feelings hurt whenever I bring Brett up. I keep it all bottled in and I know it's been a long time. But it's hard for me to hold it in. He's not like a boyfriend who I broke up with and we went our separate ways. We were engaged, had a child and there were no bad terms.
So, I feel guilt over hurting Kyles feelings but also still miss Brett sometimes horribly. I can't remember his voice anymore, or anything. The only thing I remember is the cancer and the chemo.
Holy Crap it all makes me sad. It's almost the anniversary and every year around this time, I get upset. Still the piece of paper haunts me. I just want to know what he wanted me to know right before he died.
I'll never know.
One piece of paper. I'll never forget.
Sigh.
All of his handwritten notes were lost when the house burned down. Then that piece of paper he was trying to write on before he died, Sherry threw it away. I wanted the paper. I have nothing left of him anymore. The funeral pillow and all his stuff was in that closet that was my room. Someone got it out when they went back to the house, but it was severely damaged with smoke and water. The notes were completely ruined. Pictures were ruined.
Stinking radio. I'm changing it back to my regular station.

Happy Monday.