I missed you today.
Not the expected missing you, where someone says your name or your face fleets across my vision and I smile.
Today it was like fog; thick and hazy, and gloomy.
Today it was the song that invokes the memory that brings the guilt that reminds me that I missed your call when you needed me most.
The message proclaiming love — but we both already knew that.
Still…today, I miss you in that heavy way. Encumbrance in my chest and strain on my heart.
What weighs the most — after the guilt, of course — is knowing that I’ll never get another bear hug, the kind that only you could give; I’ll never spill out a dark-humoured joke and hear your burst of laughter, the kind that only you could give; I’ll never again hear your rendition of Christopher Walken reading Good Night Dish; I’ll never hear your voice.
The videos will have to suffice.
The song will continue robbing my chest of the tumultuous calm I’ve come to accept as normal.
Your face will forever make me smile…and sometimes that smile will hurt.
We’ll all keep coping with life without you; a strenuous chore that we all despise.
But at least we can keep the memories.