Soon it's going to be Yahrzeit for a friend I barely knew.
I feel a whispering has started and a weight that has begun tugging at me. The year turns in a circle over itself with a new notch and I carelessly play with the groove.
I lie awake at times and boldly say to him, I'd like to talk. Come sit here next to me and tell me why you did it.
I'm not asking for any favors from beyond. I'm not curious about your afterlife.
I just want to know why you left. Sit next to me and tell me. Or tell me a story. Tell me some secret. Tell me anything to comfort me.
I sometimes day dream about what it might have been like to be you. I wonder if you were as brilliant as it is said you were. If you were so brilliant that you knew things you didn't want to know. I think that often.
Sometimes I think if only you had gone to Harvard everything would have been okay.
I give you a lot of credit.
I think about you holding your tiny dog and getting such comfort from her and I wonder why it soothed you. It just makes me itchy to pet my Jackie cat.
I was married, my body was ripped open twice in childbirth, I was divorced. You alone smashed who I was and changed me. You took my innocence to the grave. That was your gift to me.
I am grateful.