last night i found myself wondering what you might be doing on a Saturday night. And with each moment of wondering, it hit me that i can’t wonder that way about you anymore because you are gone. really gone. and I felt this a booming thud in the center of my chest, a very, very loud and very deep thud of emptiness.

i can’t wonder about you the same way anymore because i am sure you are somewhere, in some place beyond my narrow realm of understanding. for some reason, i have this image of you in a state of floatation. it’s a nice image. you, in this weightless state,  sort of hovering above me, amused. you’d probably make a joke about weight loss. i would then say, I wasn’t talking about your weight. And we’d both end up apologizing to each other, or actually, trying to out-apologize each other. our running competition.

i hope you do come back. maybe you are making your way back right now as i type these words. maybe you are in mid-passage. When you do come back, it will be a miracle if i recognize you. if we recognize each other.

i wish i could do something to make you come back in a form i can recognize. But just in case you do not, it’s impossible for me to express how fortunate i am to have lived at the same time, on the same planet, in the same city, as you. and drank from the same pitchers of margaritas. and spoke a secret language only 2 or 3 people could understand… and of course, we’d apologize about it.

i can hear you making fun of me for even writing this, but in a loving, non-mocking way.

maybe if i keep this post going, keep typing about you, you will become tangible again. i might even be able to convince myself that your departure was just another one of my strange dreams.