Across The River

You hope I’m okay? Yeah, I hope you are too. I’m not sure of much these days I’ll say that is for sure. You know? I guess sitting here in front of the river it’s like you’re way over there, on the other side. I see you, you see me and we both see this chasm between us. I definitely feel it. It feels like a closed chapter if I had to articulate it. I woke up from a nightmare that lasted for months. I woke up to my normal nightmare, that is. But you have no idea how waking up to you across this river feels like, when, I feel as though I never had any say in the matter. I mean, I have so many questions and the worst part is, I don’t think you would answer me any of them. Subconsciously I’m preparing my coffin despite me trying to keep my head up and on the level and I know that. But I see dead people. I see and speak to the passed away. Your ghost. I woke up and you vanished. If this sounds out of character for me — it is — because I’ve never felt so low. Not to underscore the impact you had on me either — that goes without saying. I think there’s something to be said for closure is what I’m getting at.

I guess being direct isn’t both of our strongest suit. But, I really wish you would’ve told me straight up and me not finding out on the forum while I was laying in that med bed. Hadn’t checked in probably about a month and the one night I do I read that. Bollox to be fair. I figured you would’ve told me straight after all we’d faced. Were you looking out for me? I try to tell myself that maybe you were. The truth is most likely that you just didn’t really care regardless. You moved on. I guess despite what happened the things I uttered you hold against me despite how knackered I was. She had the same initials as you. The blonde. How sadistically coincidental right? I’d send this to you but the walls between us are miles thick. Questions. Never any closure. There you are, across the river.