Just A Page Away

Written for a friend who died suddenly and unexpectedly. A reminder that stories end all the time.

Nothing.

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. 

Nothing.

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?

The End

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