If he were alive, this is a number that would be freaking me out. Probably freak him out, too.
And remembering his birthday brings up for me one of the biggest regrets of my life--that I didn't call him on his birthday when I could have. Knowing he'd been sick. Knowing he wanted to see me, hear from me. Not sure whether to do so would be good or bad for him or for me. Teaching me once again that, when in doubt, choose the positive, not the negative.
I still miss him. I can't imagine anyone ever being such a perfect (or, really, near-perfect) match for me, temperament-wise, with the same sense of humor, taste in movies, intelligence, etc., that he had.
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