Second Monday

Remy DeJoseph
Aug 28, 2017 · 2 min read

The Monday before you died I recall us lying on the grass underneath the blanket of the night. I gazed above, enamored by the starlight and all you said was “what will you do…” then stopped, abrupt, as if you knew of your fate so untimely.

You had to have known.

I turned to you, dazed from the sky and focused onto your tie-dyed hat and your lovely face.

I asked you to go on, but you switched it to “when you go to school.” If only I knew. I said I would love you four score more for every hour we are apart. You mentioned other girls. Pretty girls. Ones with deep ocean eyes. Beautiful long hair. Ones with hair at all.

I rolled on my side to tell you I did not find love in eyes and hair. I found it in touch, fixed to only yours. With the gentle holding of my hand, I found love in finger tips and finger taps.

Yours.

All yours.

The devil can’t seduce the God given gift of your touch.

I placed my finger on your cheek and felt the roll of your tear. Your quivering smile shook my heart.

That was when your eyes turned lilac under the shadow of the moon, and I thought it strange when I felt your cheek so cold, yet you donned my sweater to help you battle chill and night. You wore my Yale sweater, I never got it back.

Then you said “what happens when I go?” I said that I hoped you felt the same when we are hours apart. I knew you were due to Hofstra in seven days. You could have said “that’s not what I meant” but instead you said “okay” and kissed my nose.

I spent that Monday with you. The last Monday at home was your second to last alive.

I was six days into school when I learned you didn’t make it to Hofstra. I came home that Monday to find you resting too peacefully.

And all that time you were telling me, all that time you were trying, and though I turned to you, and looked at you, my heart pushed aside the thoughts of you dying. But if only I knew, if only I knew.

)

Remy DeJoseph

Written by

Writer of many things, a friend, and a soul brother to everything that lives. Channillo: https://channillo.com/user/25375/

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