Untitled--19.

19.

I wanted to not have to talk about this because I thought it could be avoided. I wanted to not have to talk about this because I wanted it to be a secret. But you were wife and mother and those praises go so unsung. I want everyone to know, but I want nobody to know. I hate that you blamed yourself. “I was jealous” you said of your first husband. How embarrassing, that we would say this now. How unjust to you. I wish I could go back and tell you that in that moment.

I talked to my mom on the phone yesterday. She said you were awake for 40 hours talking to people who had passed. As if this were a matter of practice. And then we thought it was going to happen, but it didn’t. A race against the proverbial clock or the opposite of that, whatever that is. Waiting. You watching classic movies still, or at least that still plays in the background. I don’t know whether you hear or understand anything now. I feel like I might now what day it will be almost, almost. Who fucking knows. She is barely hanging on. No. You are still in the room with us. I am going to talk to you directly like a real human being. We tick the time via bodily functions. I don’t know about those anymore. Silence is strange, but expected now. I will not ask. I don’t know the answer. We had gotten into a habit that didn’t make sense anymore. I just couldn’t see myself on that timeline. Everything is disjointed now, shattered.

But I will be back here again someday with someone else. I don’t know who yet. I made the story about me this time. As an only child, I always do. Such condemnation. But it’s time for you to go soon. Soon you will put on your coat and shoes and get into the car. And it’ll be time for me to be going, too.