Silvie isn't okay. And that's okay.

The thing no one gets about grief- it isn't linear. You aren't sad for days and then over it the next. It's a wound that continuously heals and rebursts. There are songs that remind you of them that feel like a set back. You have ten good days in a row and then you remember their birthday is coming up, and you feel all the sadness all over again.

Each day it does get a little easier. But it doesn't happen in a straight ass line. That's why I'm doing this with her today. She needs to know that she will have happy days again.

"Get up baby," I say in a tone that's more gruff than it probably needs to be.

Light shines through the split in the curtains and she blocks it with her hand. I toss down a jersey on the bed. "Get ready and put this on."

"I'm not going," she says, voice flat.

I sit on the edge next to her. "Yes, you are," I say in a voice that's much more gentle.

I don't give two shits about the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. They could lose every game this season for all I care. But seeing Silvie's smile when we got to the stadium and there was a row filled with guys from the club made these dumbass season tickets we bought worth it.

Her blood family is gone, but she still has family. She needs to know that.

Rod brought his nephew, Al. At first, you could see the hurt written across Silvie's face. But now, she's got him in her lap and they're cheering on the team. She took him to get a hot dog and a slushie. She once told me that was the most important part of any sporting event- the food.

"Thanks," she says, as we walk out of the stadium. "I know I've been hard to deal with lately-"

"Silvie, stop." I hold up my hand cutting her off. Sliding my hands up her neck, I rest them behind her ears. "When I say I want all of you, I mean it. I want the messy parts, the mean parts, the ugly side of things. Because that's you. I don't want you to change or hide from me. Because I can't change who I am either. I'm fucked up. I've done fucked up things. But I love every bit of you and I want you to love every bit of me too."

She sniffs and nods. "I do," she says. "I love you, Wolfgang."