Dear Roger, Missing Pieces

Dear Roger,
Its really hard to believe I made it through this last winter, we got over 12 feet of snow in total and I think I was sick more than I was well.I ended up getting the Mexican Pig Flu or the Swine Flu or H1N1 or whatever politically correct bullshit they are calling it this week, and I thought I was going to freaking die.It took a lot out of me, but on the bright side, I managed to finally get back into those size 1 jeans that have been hanging in the back of my closet for the last 20 years.I dont think I have been warm in the last 5 months, and some days I think that if I dont get off this Goddammed mountain, I will end up getting buried here, and that would piss me off so bad I would have to haunt somebody.
I miss the hell out of you. There doesnt seem to be a soul alive that really gets me on the level that you did, and it really hurts to see an art piece or a movie or hear some music that I know you would catch the same vibe off of and have no one around that even fanthoms what the hell you are so caught up in.Its like being a splash of red paint in a tan world and I hate it.I miss going to art exhibits and galleries and listening to weird opera and music and discussing cultural things.Most of the culture around here revolves around quads,kids and the wind. There are a few bright spots, and I have made a few friends, but its hard to reach out, and I am not good at maintaining relationships, God knows I cannot seem to pick a man worth a damn. You were supposed to help me pick out the next one and I think that is why I have had such a problem! You left me such a fucking emotional wreck when you died that I ended up grabbing onto whatever solace I could find, and though I loved him, he didnt love me back and that ended up being an emotional mind-fuck that lasted 12 years,up until,ironically, this past Valentines Day! How is that for a fine Fuck it ALL?! I get sick, we get a huge blizzard, and a real prick emerges, all in one fell swoop...I cannot win Rog., and I guess I was never ment to, but dammit I would at least like to come in a close second once in a while, and with him I always felt that I was a slow 3rd, but at least it was something. I dont feel like I have ever been loved, though I have damn sure done my fair share of loving, and I have tried, but I think as I have gotten older, I have realized that my true love died in my youth in a pick up truck on a country road in East Texas. I know that seems weird, but what else would a boys death have haunted me so strongly for so long? Why else would I have felt the world sucked away when my father so casually told us as he walked in that evening? And why, whenever I passed that spot in the road, would it have hurt so much so many years later? I can still picture him in my dreams, we had a couple of classes together and I remember him being such an athlete that it was pure joy to watch him move. He threw himself down next to me one day in gym and he smiled at me and asked,"Why are you sitting out? You throw harder than any other girl in here and some of the guys!" I thought my heart would bust! He was out of my league, but he never acted like it, and if he had lived, he probably wouldnt have given me the time of day as we got older, but then I might have been able to get past that and learn to move forward, but it feels like for almost 30 years my heart has felt like a giant piece is missing and will never be replaced and those that have come after a like puzzle pieces that you try to force by bashing in with the side of your hand, close but either so tight the edges fray, or just too small and misshapen and never ment to be there in the first place.
Being stuck here in Flagstaff has been difficult for me, I never wanted to settle down in one place and I damn sure never expected to have so many kids, and while I dont regret them, I often wonder if I am doing a decent job as a parent.
I will close for now, the wind is picking back up,AGAIN, and that makes me as morose as Nordic noir, so its best I quit for the day.