“What makes you cry?”
He asks me this as my mind is preoccupied with the thoughts of the person I now miss.
I think, how is it so easy to cut off someone you love without explanation, without reason, without hesitation?
Everyday, you pop into my head, and I feel not only my pain, but yours. And I remind myself, this isn’t about me. And the pain simmers, but only briefly.
You, you left in peace.
But you, oh, you left me in pieces.
And I respond to him while he holds my hand tightly, “The loss of a friend.”