By Twilight

I wish I had the talent to express the overwhelming loss I feel, and by twilight I’ll miss you. But I must say, I can’t even fully express the condition I’m in. I can put on a good front, but my days are mostly misery. Every night that I seem fine on the town ends in a night of tears, and I can guarantee you of that. Every night. We have seemed to hold it together, seemed to take this well, but that’s only because we are pretty tough. Fact is, we're a very close family that will never fully function again without missing our piece. Wherever it is.

And you have to realize, Mike and I haven’t been more then 50 miles from each other for 20 years. More often then not, we’ve been 20 feet from each at most.

And I still think he’s coming home. But he’s not, somehow, and the pain I feel is something that will never be solved. I’ve heard plenty of people say that they've been impressed with the steadfast nature that I’ve shown though all of this. In reality, it’s just because I’m foolhardy. I’m in a zone. It’s because, I’ve always known we all will die, but I could only hope that the pain of death would come to me as it is supposed, on schedule, arriving like a poorly written Eddie Murphy movie. But it hasn’t, it’s stung me hard and randomly (although, as I’ve told a few people, I actually was very concerned about Mike’s trip before he went, although I could never expect it).

So everyone has been impressed with my how tough I’ve seemed through losing my other half. The fact is, I’m barely hanging on. And the only thing that keeps me going is my belief that all our deaths should never be premature. We most soak every ounce of existence of this probably miserable life, and teach along the way if we have the ability to. But that belief has put sorely to the test, and I only hang now because I have to, and because there must be some reason for me being the one that is still here.

And even though every memory is another shot of pain, and every piece of my history now feels like a searing and lost piece of life (I mean, why would you spend every second of your life with someone only to have them taken right in a time for the them to miss out on everything they were about to teach you? And how can I take this life seriously if it’s that random? And why should I even try?)

Well here is why I will try. Because Mike wouldn’t have quit and neither will I (although I’m close). But more importantly I won’t give up on this life because there is no alternative, and if nothing else I’ve always been a scrapper. And I’ll fight for every inch I have, and hopefully, every shred of talent I may have won’t be buried under a shocked slime of disbelief. Because although I may have it, I’m not sure I want it.

I can’t live without him, and I can’t even believe I could write this. And literally, everyday this whole thing makes less sense, which makes me wonder how I'll surface from this disaster, and if I ever will (or even want to).