All the things I have not come to terms with. I will never understand. Your Death.
I found myself at one of our establishments on Saturday’s moonlight.
The last time I made an adventure there, I was alone, but you were alive.
Before, you, IPA Lagunitas me, predictable. Laughing. Making my dark days happy. Your demons, quiet.
I could be me, never some part in someone elses play.
I learned to let go, just be. I even was strong enough to let you tease me. Something I have NEVER been good at (due to the real abuse I’ve taken).
As I sat there
I thought of you.
Two out of the four people we knew, are gone. Tending Bar somewhere else or on the wagon.
We had a good time. I actually ate. And enjoyed the few moments I could. We traveled to our Jewel-Osco after. A place that is so trivial, but still so painful for me. To walk down the aging grocery aisles without you picking on me, your ‘Sweet Jesus,’ or your laughter is a tunnel of sorrow.
It’s too hard. I’m trapped here with fucking Dysautonomia, so much pain, heartache leftover and new abandonment, and your death.
Everywhere I go, there is a piece of you that remains
That’s not all.
I cannot take, live with or rise above anymore.