I can’t bear it. I can’t grasp it. Everyone leaves. We clean up. My parents, uncle, and brother watch football. Audrey sleeps thanks to my aunts help. But I come here to bed by 8:30 because it is too quiet, still, painful for me to just sit. I see you there as you should be but Im told you died.
I lay in bed in the dark using the light of your/my phone to look at your face on a picture. What I’ve craved the past two days at this busy family function was the simple way you’d come up to me after we’d both been in our own conversations, and put your arm around my back or shoulder. It feels both like yesterday that I had that, accepted it so casually as if it belonged to me, but also as though I never had it at all…perhaps I dreamt the feel of your hands around me like that. I miss you so…with great, great wordless pain.