“The Minor Fall, The Major Lift”

September 17th, 2008 § 0 comments

Two years does not seem to be a very significant marker when you are expecting a lifetime more, but two years in reverse, two years since so many things, is almost unbelievable. Despite all that has changed since you left, I am still amazed by how much we miss our friend.

You have become an elusive man to pin down; you come and go from my life now that I don’t force you to exist tangibly through my artwork. The thesis was the culmination of a one sided relationship I could not maintain. I can’t force myself to remember you, and I can’t choose to forget, so you exist spontaneously now in undulating waves of joy and sorrow.

I listened to your songs today, at work, on the train, at home, and now while I write, the songs of your death. It was not inappropriate to do so, nor morbid, because today is the day you died; they are beautiful songs. They are not the tunes you played for me in life, though I know you did, they are the songs we chose to describe our sorrow. These few have become the descriptive moments of a passing I still remember a little too clearly.

And I have discovered you learn to live with grief the way you learn to live with yourself. I still feel the regret and disappointment, but without the desperation.

I could have talked about you today, but I didn’t. I wondered again, as I watched people going about their lives, walking to work and the subway, if it could be true, this moment existing in my mind. With your voice in my head I enjoyed my secret knowledge of your life and death, what you meant to me and I you. These things are not unreal, and your death seems to be only the byproduct of the time we shared, or of life itself. After being separated so brutally, somehow we are close again. There is only a hint of fear at the idea that it feels so because you are slipping slowly away.

I am not bitter, I don’t miss the anger, I don’t feel as sad, I certainly don’t blame you for leaving, and I don’t even wish for you back (too often) because I can’t imagine how I could undo what your death has done. But I hope to run into you one day, and I look forward to the mayhem that will ensue. When life becomes dull, or the time is right, I will start looking for you, and perhaps I will begin at the coast of your druthers.amalfi-coast

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