I believe there is a time in everyone’s life when they are helpless.  Helpless with nothing but hope and trust.

I woke up to the buzzing of my phone, opening it up to a text from you.  “Goodmorning sunshine, its beautiful out!  Have a wonderful day!”  I smiled, and rested my head back down on my pillow, dripping in sweat from the sun beating down on me through the open windows. The night before we had talked on the phone for a long time.  Sharing stories about our days, laughing so hard I could hardly breathe.  Before we hung up, you promised me we could go for a late night bike ride around the city tomorrow, and then said “Goodnight, Carly.”

It was summer.  There was nothing to do but be carefree and childish.  I was excited of the possibilities of the day, of the possibilities for the rest of my life.  Excited to go out and sit in the sunshine, knowing it would only be a few more hours before I could see you.  I was happy—happy just to be breathing on a day like this.

I attended a funeral that day.  Even that was strangely perfect.  Everyone cried, then smiled and laughed together, celebrating the life of a wonderful woman.  After that, we all sat around, drinking and eating until the sun set.

When I got back to my car later that night I called you right away.  At one o’clock you still hadn’t picked up, and I got the feeling that something was wrong.  I went to your apartment and called your name.  No answer.  I turned the doorknob, and it was open.  I started to walk away, maybe because I was afraid of what I would find, but never guessing it would be this.  Half way down your steps, something pulled me back, and I walked back up them for the second time and went inside.

 ————

It took all my strength to walk back down your stairs and onto the sidewalk.  I collapsed by the tree outside of your apartment.  Lights were everywhere, sirens were screaming, the police officer was holding me up by my arm, talking in my ear, but all I could hear was your voice, replaying over and over again in my mind.  “Have a wonderful day…have a wonderful day…have a wonderful day.”  And all I could think was, “You promised me we could ride bikes tonight.  You promised me you would be here.  You promised me you would always be here.” 

That was the day the sun was shining.  That was the day I felt young and alive and free.  That was the day everything was perfect.  And that was the day everything fell apart.

to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you’ve held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.

-Ellen Bass

I miss you more than I ever thought was possible.  I miss you so much that sometimes it feels like my heart is going to fall out of my chest.  So much that sometimes I just want to scream at the top of my lungs so you can hear me.  It’s the little things I miss.  It’s the phone calls and the times we spent doing nothing that I miss.  The times we were just together, just there, sitting. The silent times.  The endless laughter and the long conversations about life.  I miss falling asleep in your arms, and waking up to kisses on the forehead.  I miss making fun of each other.  I miss cooking dinner together and sitting on pillows on the floor of your apartment eating.  I miss being on your roof, watching all the people walk by below us.  I miss seeing your face outside of the airport whenever I got back into town.  I miss the walks to buy icecream from the convenient store, and the morning coffee runs.  I miss watching you while you worked, staring at you from across the room until you would turn, and look back, and smile.  I miss the feeling of your arm around me, and my hand in yours.  I miss feeling safe with you, like nothing could hurt us, like we could handle anything life threw at us.  I miss doing everything I could just to annoy you.  I miss the sound of your footsteps running up my back stairs.  I miss seeing you smile at me from across the room at a party.  I miss you telling me I’m your best friend.  I miss you shoving me into aisles as we walked through walmart.  I miss your tourettes man and arnold schwartzeneger impressions.  I miss you sitting in the bathroom pooping and yelling at me to play you back in words with friends.  I miss the talks about our pasts, and the excitement we shared of our futures.  I miss you tackling me to the ground, drawing penises on my back with sharpies.  I miss the sound of your laugh, and all of the “goodnights”.  I miss eating all of your food.  I miss the smell of your apartment, and your pillows.  I miss you singing to silly songs at the top of your lungs.  I miss holding on to you tight, and screaming, as you’d whip around corners on your scooter.  I miss driving around in your car, throwing things out the windows.  I miss the sound of your voice, and how you made me feel like anything was possible.  I miss having someone to tell all of my stupid dreams and pointless stories to. I miss how mad you made me. I miss building things with you, and working on the jet ski in the garage.  I miss your kisses.  I miss how you made me feel.  I miss how you could make me laugh harder than anyone.  I miss the times we weren’t doing anything, but were perfectly content.  I miss my best friend.

I just miss you.  It’s the little things I miss.