But If You Can’t Wait Until Then It Could Be N: Not Here
I’d hoped you were still alive and had faked your death because I annoyed you in some way, and for a while you wanted a break. But, I looked up your obituary and found it’s true. You died suddenly. There was nothing anyone could do. Don’t you see, and in no way your fault, but I need you to talk to.
I sit here with reality and want to cry but I hold back the sobs. To what avail will it do? To wail aloud and then what? I grab a tissue for my nose has begun, shall I say to weep too, in the spirit of poetic license to keep a flow for what I want to say that I don’t yet know.
You really have passed, yes, this I knew. I had a dream like friends and family who feel loss do. You looked good in a white sweater, turtleneck, and white slacks, something you never wore. Now that’s a clue. Your kitchen was brilliant, dazzling brighter than the sun. You always kept it clean but not like this. We sat down for coffee as we’d so often done. You are happy and at peace. I knew this too.
You were the only one to whom I could speak my heart. You knew what to say. No one else wants to listen. I give them a headache, get the brush-off and I’m asked to go away. Now I’m my own headache and at least the one person who doesn’t mind if I stay. Otherwise I ache from the loss of a friend as forever part of me you remain.
I sit here alone, single coffee in hand. There’s nothing left except to wish for one moment more.
A rustle from the stack of balloons in the corner, a pink one pops out and rolls along the floor. A sign from the heavens, are you here with me, or am I just insane? Do balloons settle? In any case, forever part of me you remain.