Last night found Alex asleep in the guest room and me, just one room away, sitting on the sofa crying. It suddenly felt so familiar – how many other nights there were like that between us. Me trying to talk things out. Him trying his best, but ultimately going to bed or shutting down. I cry so little lately that I suprised myself last night – surprised that such sadness was still there, right where it had been before he left town - the sadness at all that we haven’t been able to manage to do together, at the steps we seem unable to make in order to heal.

As the song says, I think I’ll always be crying over Alex to some extent. Crying for what we weren’t able to do.