The One Left Behind

There are times when I will be working at the computer, or sitting at the table having coffee, or watching television, or just laying in bed, and I will hear your voice. 1

And then time goes in slow motion. I can feel the smile growing on my face, I can feel the way all of my facial muscles arrange themselves to make my face light up. I can feel the way my torso tenses and lifts, waiting expectantly to hear more, or to see you. It only takes an instant.2

And in another instant, I can feel my body droop, much like a plant that has not been watered does. I didn’t hear your voice. I couldn’t have. You’re gone.3

Every time it happens, it reminds me. Of the details. Of the way I lost you. 4

The strangest thing about it all is that you seemed so happy. You had a beautiful smile, and you gave it freely. Your eyes lit up at the smallest details. You made everything feel so lively. You made me feel alive. And just as could be expected, your death makes me feel dead. 5

I feel dead. 6

Because I could never let things go, all of your things are still in our apartment. I have not touched your guitar’s strings because I know you hate when I fiddle with them… I’m sorry for doing that when you were here. Your clothes are still in our drawers. I wouldn’t be able to stand seeing the drawers so empty…7

I’m also sorry that I have used up all of your cologne, but I am planning on getting more the next time I go out. I like to spray it. Everywhere. On the covers, the sofa. On myself. 8

Every night I pray to you. You would joke and call me blasphemous, but I know you would appreciate it. Every night I tell you about my day. And every night I ask you why you left me. I ask you why—WHY—was it so difficult to stay? Yes, I know you had your down days. I know they were difficult—trust me, I was there through it all. But they always passed. Why couldn’t you just wait it out? Was our life not enough? Was I not enough?9

All of these questions and never any answers. I wish you would answer. You left me the bloated letter. It was waiting on the side table near the front door when I came home. It was folded thick in the envelope. But I was tired from the long day, so I only picked it up and went upstairs to change. Instead, I found you. Cold and sprawled on the floor, I found you. I did not read the letter until after they came to take you away, until after I had screamed and cried until my eyes were stinging and puffy. Until after I went to my mother’s and shut myself into my old room.10

The letter was beautiful. It said you loved me. It said many, many beautiful lies. Lies, because if you loved me, if you were happy with me, then you would be here.11

But you’re not. 12

The strangest thing about it all is that you did seem so happy… and you made me feel so alive.13

And now I feel dead. 14

Did I tell you I wear your cologne? 15

Oh. I’m repeating myself…16

Dear God, I miss you so much…17