I remember the first time I saw him, he looked lost. His eyes empty and a world away. He became haunted by all the things he didn’t get a chance to do. He was certain that if he had the time he could have made something of it. I do not agree with him, I don’t think it matters. I chose to end it. I walked out and I don’t think I’ve missed much, neither has he.
But I suppose his anger is pardonable. He didn’t see it coming, he didn’t get to choose. He still carries all that potential energy around and has deluded him into thinking that things might have been different. When you die the dreams don’t go away.
I see him often now, he doesn’t look so lost anymore. He is no longer logging all that energy around. He is home now. The bottom of the ocean is more beautiful than you would ever imagine and now he rests.
