As the years pass by I become less and less susceptible to death. To that one moment when something inside you snaps. You hear it snap – the sound is piercing inside you, the air outside is still, because you forgot to breathe. No matter if it’s a young sapling or a thick branch of a mighty oak, the pain is just as sharp, the moment – just as clearly defined.
The moment you died. For me. Perhaps it was something that you said. Or something that you didn’t. The phone call I never got that night, waiting by the phone.
Sure, there will be the times I’ll remember you – I’ll remember what it felt like, these short moments of happiness, when I dared smile a happy smile with the universe – ah, my jealous universe whose mission is to seek and destroy every spec of happiness I’ve dared feel…. Now, at your funeral, I go back to these brief moments, and they seem just as brief… almost — non-existent — as if they did not happen, with each second, were they just a dream?… Was I dreaming all these nights, falling asleep before the monitor? It seems that way, more than ever… You may have haunted my reality, love, once upon a time, but thankfully, you never got to haunt my dreams, not like a true Love would. And be that as it may – I shall dare say I’ve known true love, better than most – the sickening kind, the one that makes you move mountains with despair, the one that sends you across oceans, thousands of miles from home, yet never to achieve it — the one that’s too good to live in this reality… As your best friend and worst enemy, I wish you this kind of love – the bittersweet taste of complete devotion. I wish you successful growing up — in your grave! Rest in Peace!