Yesterday I wrote something about farewells. I didn’t know I’d be writing about death today.
How do you mourn someone you don’t know, yet know? Maybe it’s because of the short four month interaction, something within that period that struck a bond. Even if past that, communication halts.
Maybe its knowing they’re okay and still around. The small green circle that appears besides their name occasionally when you log into discord. A slight nod, then the days activities.
The news first filters in without a name. You pause and ponder life and death. Our cycle. Then continue your day.
Then it finally lends itself a name.
The tears start pouring.
“Why?”
“You barely knew him.” “You’re not friends.”
Yes. I barely knew him. But tell me why the tears keep following? Is it because he reached out to quiet little me and said hello? Something rather irrelevant and mundane, yet profound. Or the promise I made almost a year ago and sort to fulfill before the year’s over. Or the single walk down the road as he inquired about my reason why for a particular activity? A single flicker of warmth in a rather dull year?
My eyes blur. My fingers type. My mind can’t understand what it’s doing, but the fingers keep typing.
This is a vent. Or something. I don’t know. I might leave it or delete it.
But heavens, I wish I did more than nod.
