Feb 7, 2022
1 min read
7 months, 13 days ago you left, on a Friday in June. My soul still doesn’t believe you are gone. Sometimes I pick up the phone to call. That is when the sky breaks apart; the truth shatters my heart. There was supposed to be more time. Decades more. Now, all we have is the time that came before. Every day after will be spent apart. I don’t know where you are. Some say you are everywhere, or even nowhere at all. Your exit left a crater. I almost fell inside. I must become someone else, to endure what follows that Friday in June.
