remembering losing you

i think of how it felt to dance with you, to float across the floor together. i remember how your sculpted back and arms felt against your starchy shirt and vest. i remember the way you smiled when our paths crossed, the way you laughed at my jokes, the way your skin looked. soft and unblemished, seemingly untouched by the pain you carried behind your vivid eyes. i think about the innocence of fireworks and board games, of friendly dinners and quiet conversations. i shake my head and think about the hope that came with knowing that finally you were changing your life. the pride i saw in you, i could tell, was a personal triumph.

"are you mad at me?", you asked, as the smell of alcohol drifted from your lips. i think about my answer, still to this day.

"i don't judge you for your choices." i said. "i love you all the same."

had i known that this would be the last night i would see you, laugh with you, dance with you, and respond to that last question, my reply might have been different.

I think about your suffering, and where you disappeared to. did you think of crying out for help? did you know that your last time was, indeed, your last time? or did you believe you would have a chance to make it right again?

i can see you in my minds eye, telling me goodbye as you walked to your car, your back turned to me. how could we have know the weight that word would hold? the horrifying finality of "goodbye"... i think you said you'd see me later with sorrow in your eyes, although i cant be sure. it is difficult to know what is real when something makes as little sense as this...

i remember going on-line and searching for your name among the death notices, trying to find some evidence of what happened to you. i found nothing and hadn't heard anything since i heard the news the night before. there was a part of me, perhaps even most of me, that foolishly believed that maybe there was some mistake, some miscommunication, or something lost in translation.

this, i'm told, is called "denial". it is the feeling of searching in vain, of looking for a grain of sand in the vast, dark ocean. something inside you tells you it is there, if you just look hard enough. i know the truth, despite my attempts at self-delusion. i know, on a fundamental level, that knowing and believing are two different concepts, and ultimately i am terrified of both. i feared my own emotions as much as i feared the reality of losing you.