my dearest dave,


I can’t talk to you anymore, yet I do constantly.  I hear your voice in my head and I fear each time that I’ll forget your noises like

I did those of my dad’s. I see you looking at me – smiling – grinning your all-knowing teethy grin, wondering why I’m in so much pain. I can see your lips move – asking me what’s wrong – but I can’t understand why you don’t know. You left Dave. I’m here alone. But Dave, I didn’t have the same peace you had of leaving this world. I never had death so close to me to understand what you did about life. I can’t smile through the pain. We had planned a whole life together. We were years ahead in other countries changing careers and flying in Gavy. Everything is gone. It evaporated before me the moment I asked if you were dead. I wish I could go back to that time – undo everything. Make none of it real. Was this really the only way for life to be perfect? Was the only answer for you to go?

Parts of me want to scream and yell – throw things and break pieces of nothing – but I know it’ll do nothing to make this less unfathomable. I want to know what happened on that hill. I want to know how you died and went in, but a part of me wonders if that will just ensure my heart completely breaks into a pile of unsaveable mush.  Surely that would be a better way to live – without a heart. Maybe then I could never care enough to hurt to death.

How do I feel so much love for you when you’re not here? You went on without me. You abandoned our journey and went on your own. You were always changing the plans to suit you, but I guess you always knew that I didn’t care as long as I had you. The day before you died we spoke and I told you I was sorry for having you leave San Diego. But it was important to me that you came home and cleaned up all the crap you left behind because it would make me see you as so much more of a man. But you said it wasn’t condescending. You said that it was awesome. But you also didn’t care about leaving because it really didn’t matter where you were as long as you were with me. You said that – the day before you died. Such a difference a day can make. And apart from a Facebook message I sent later that night hoping you were good and drunk and offering you a sloppy PDA, we hadn’t spoke. It wasn’t until the day after you died that I got your message you sent me that morning. You couldn’t wait to get home to me. And hours later the mountain took your life.

Earlier that week you made a jokey comment about how you’d be surprised if you made it past 40. I was so mad at you for not realizing that if that were true you would be leaving me here alone – without you. But babe that’s not the plan, you said. That’s not what I want, it’s just the way I live my life I’d be surprised if I didn’t die by then. I don’t know what to say.

It’s the most unbearable pain to imagine you as real. I keep trying, not in a masochistic way, but I keep trying so I can keep you with me. You gave me the truest happiness I have ever felt in my life. The most intense love I have ever gotten from a human being. I would walk on my toes and imagine my heart shining. I would hold my head high and smile just because. You could just say a word and my heart would flutter, just touch my shoulder and the waters would calm. Oh Dave. My heart is broken. I want your positivity and love to live on in me in everything I do, but it’s difficult now because all I want to do is shout at the sky and demand your return and demand things to go back – even if that means I must go on that journey too. But things can’t be undone. That’s something we all learn so soon in this life. Even though I know it, it’s of no comfort. It means nothing. A broken heart can’t think what it feels.

I moved all the clothes over in my cupboards even though I doubted you’d get on that plane. I was trying to be optimistic. You got kind of hurt when I told you my doubts. You promised me. You promised you’d get on that plane. But you changed your mind so many times already. I was having a hard time believing you would come home. I’m sorry. It just hurt for months. I got home on April 7 and you had no inclination to race back to me – because of weather, so you said. And then I came to see you and everything changed for both of us.

I never told you how panicy you looked in the baggage claim. It was so cute. And when I tackled you from behind how your eyes lit up and we couldn’t stop kissing. You wouldn’t stop kissing me. You’re here. I can’t believe you’re here. You’re here. That was a long wait and a long test to decide if we were truly in love. But we passed – we so were. That night you promised me you were coming home.  That was the best trip of my life – I’ll never forget it.  Dammit Dave. I want you back. Dammit Dave, you promised you’d be safe. I don’t know how to go on without you. I go through motions. I’m on auto-pilot. And the worst is that I feel so alone, but there’s your son, your daughter, your friends.

I have so much to tell you. So much I held back just waiting for pillow-talk when you got home. You were my best friend. Who do I talk to now Dave? Who cares as much as you? I really don’t like this world without you in it. You made it all worthwhile. What am I to do now? I really want to say Fuck You for dying. But I wouldn’t mean it. I don’t think I would mean it. I don’t know anything anymore. My best friend is gone. My lover is gone. Dammit Dave. I don’t know what to do. Nothing seems real anymore.

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About humanbeen

I'm a has-been that was. I'm a dreamer that does.
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