Fuck it, I’m saying it:
I miss you, my love.
Now, you are just splashes of light and dark, color and paleness, drifting away as my screen scrolls.
We are on a road, somewhere near Ojai. It is the perfect February day: crisp and clear, but not cold. We have a destination, but it isn’t important at this moment.
I look over at you, and am overcome with your loveliness. For the millionth time, I wonder how, with all the reasons why not, we are together. But we are.
And in my mind, I am holding you, just to feel who you are. I drive on, in a rare state of contentment.
Fast forward to That Day.
Nothing could have prepared me for the devastation I witnessed. I could not fathom the lost self-possession that had been your hallmark. Yes, you were crazy, now. The demons you’d fought for a quarter of a century had taken advantage of a lull in your defenses, swarmed the battlements, and taken even the high tower where you had made your final refuge.
I know you fought bravely and hard, for a long time. This was not weakness.
But they took you, and now you are just words on a social networking site.
A constant reminder that I still do not wish to avoid.
Los Angeles, October 26, 2014