Written for a friend who died suddenly and unexpectedly. A reminder that stories end all the time.
I recognised your name but it didn't fit with the rest of the words.
I understood and said so.
I hung up and fell back to sleep.
For days I thought of you but no tears came.
I couldn't take down the wall.
I couldn't get the feelings out, but I was sure that there were feelings there.
I lived normally, accepted consolation, though it wasn't really needed.
I knew that your family were in pieces.
I knew that friends were torn apart by grief.
I was your friend.
But I was still whole without you.
I thought it was shock, and I was shocked, but it felt different.
It wasn't an inability to process anything.
I had processed it, I understood, I couldn't believe, but I knew it was real.
Still I felt nothing.
You touched my life, everyone's life in such a positive way.
Your life made me feel so many things.
You death made me feel nothing.
Weeks have passed now and i haven't cried yet.
Maybe it's because your presence is still in those around me.
Maybe it's because I still expect to see you walk through my door.
Or maybe it's because I know that your life was good, and mourning is something you never did.
Your story reached it's unexpected end.
Is mine just a page away?