The last time I heard him speak he used his final words to tell his crying mess of a family, “I’m sorry”, before he faded into a drug induced coma. Apparently the pain from organs failing is so excrutiating, Doctor’s give you the option to either stay somewhat conscious and experience this agony, or be so heavily medicated you slip into a morphine dream until it’s all over. Of course we made him choose the latter. It gave us less time to be with him, but he had already suffered enough. With that farewell he chose to apologize for the pain he knew would soon spill over onto us.

The last time I could see he was still there in his half lidded eyes was 2 days later. I knew he was in there still. I knew he had been the moment I saw his eyes stop moving like eyes do when in the dreaming stage. He was still breathing, but when you’ve been around a person long enough to see the life in their eyes... you can tell the moment it’s gone.

The last time I saw him breathing was a day later. It was laboured, that horrible croaking noise hospital’s aptly labeled the “death rattle”. I can never forget the sound, and how much I hated it. Partly because it was awful, and partly (mostly) because I was terrified for when it would stop. When it did stop, I held my breath too. I think our whole family stopped breathing for a moment, like we were unsure if we still should when he couldn’t. It was as if we all acknowledged that a huge piece of us died.

The last time I saw him was in an open casket. He looked so peaceful, wearing one of his favorite outfits, some tattered old clothes he rarely was seen without. No 3 piece suits for him, that wouldn’t have been right. He was resting from this life, when I kissed his forehead one last time and said my goodbyes.

That was 11 years ago, and now, 11 years later, I keep the hope that someday, it won’t be the last time.

I'm starting to slip,

Walls cemented by past disappointments crumble as they violently fall.

I do not pick up the pieces.

I'm starting to slip,

An earthquake created by screams of all my insecurities being released tremble beneath my feet.

Not an ounce of fear.

I'm starting to slip,

Waves of fallen tears are now being pulled back out to sea.

They no longer crash against my cheeks.

I'm starting to slip,

Haunting images my memories have drawn are being erased.

Not a streak to be left.

I'm starting to slip,

The cage around my heart has become brittle and flaking away.

No longer am I a prisoner within myself.

I'm starting to slip,

Too scared to say I've fallen, but whenever my heart sees him I feel I've started to slip.

The first time I saw him,

The air in the room changed.

When he smiled at me,

All time stopped.

When we first spoke,

I knew he would change my life.

When we bantered flirtatiously,

I knew he could break my heart.

When he kissed me,

My heart skipped a beat.

When caresses became more intimate,

Electricity charged through my body.

When I decided to visit him,

I spent days in breathless anticipation.

When he told me there was another,

Pain coursed through my soul.

We said goodbye, my heart forever damaged,

And that was the last time I saw him.

When I saw him,

I counted his toes.

I almost didn’t believe the nurse’s

reassurances

that he was mine.

That I had built this small body

cell by cell.

That this was the creature

I’d sung to sleep

as my belly ballooned,

and my love grew with it.

Today , I was reminded of the day we first met. I was walking past that park on 'sunflower' street and saw that bench.

Memories flooded my mind .

There you were sat on that bench under the glistening moonlight reading that god awful book you seemed to love so dearly . I was

Lost , first day in a new town is always tricky, and I refused to ask the creep looming in the darkness around the corner for directions . So hesitantly I walked up behind you and taped you on the shoulder ever so gently and you refused to let me walk home alone in the dark , you took my hand and led me into the night. I still to this day don't know why I trusted you but I felt safe around you from the moment I met you . And I will never regret making that wrong left turn on my way home from work. About ten minutes in to our walk to my house , the other side of town , the rain began to fall .

You grabbed my hand tightly and ran under a bus shelter spinning me into your warm embrace. Not only did you take my hand that night but you also took my heart. I know I'd only knew you for minutes but I felt like I had known you for life like our souls were connected in this way so spectacular that the rest of the world began to vanish when you were around .

When you left me at me front porch that night I stood and watch you run through the rain into the distance I wanted so bad to chase after you take your hand and never let go , tell you how I felt but then as I snapped back to reality you were gone. Sleepless nights were then a frequent burden I had to deal with as thoughts of never seeing you again consumed me.

Every waking chance I got I would get on my bike and ride down to that park and sit on that bench waiting for you to turn up. The day I had lost all hope and was on my way home I realised that I had left my sketch book on the bench . I had this sudden feeling like everything was going to be ok and I began running for my book . I was so shocked to see you sat right there in that exact same spot as I was sat just a few minutes previously. I was frozen . Watching you as you sat there ,what seemed to be reading your book, was so calming for me. That was untill I realized your book on the floor next to the bench . That's when you done it.

You turned around , and you saw me . A tear in your eye you ran to me and hugged me tightly while holding my sketch book open to a page that held a drawing of the two of us and every diary entry I had written since I met you .

It's been 43 years since that day yet I can't get those feelings out of my head .

I finally told them this story yesterday our kids loved it . Bringing up old memories of you still hurt though and I don't think I can ever move on especially when I can feel your spirit guiding me through life without you.

But don't worry John that bastard won't get away with it I will have him locked up for good for what he done to you .

But I guess what I really wanted to say is I love you and miss you . I'm almost finished here I can feel my time is short so don't forget about me , I'll be there soon .

, Love mollie

Xxxx

Damn it!!! Whenever I see him, I feel ridiculous. My eyes glazed over. "Best friend I think he's looking at me from the stage!" "Oh, wait, or is he looking over my head at the dj booth so they can cue his next track?" I'll go with the first one. My intention is always to play it cool like I'm just a casual fan. The real truth is I hijacked my best friend and drove over three hours to see him in a more intimate setting. That was only after seeing him once before live. Dude makes me goofy...on the inside. I am over thirty, yet crushing on him makes me feel like I'm twelve. I found out last week that he has the same birthday as someone who is very influential and close in my life. Immediately, I was like, "IT"S A SIGN!" A few weeks before that, I bought a VIP ticket to meet him up close this November. I'm practicing right now being nonchalant. I don't want my hands to shake or my knees to lock up when he takes a picture with me. My heart will be racing, and I may or may not have double vision. He doesn't even know me. I'm literally just the silhouette of a face in the crowd.

f

a

l

l

i

n

g

out of harmony

painful discord

endless cacophany

w a t c h i n g a n d w a i t i n g

h o

e i

r n

e g

ad infinitum ad infinitum ad infinitum ad infinitum

again on I gamI

and r o T T ing

again e E i E

p R t R

e U e U

a M r M

t a u a

o t m t

again v q q

and e u u

again r e e

you are

ruber cantabile

cinereus cadence

cyaneus calmato

indicum calore

alba pura calando

Principium et finis.

It was love from the get go. He looked at me with his caring eyes. And I was hooked.

He actually ran to me with all his energy and I embraced him. His brown hair was so soft as I held him to my body.

There was licking. A lot of licking. And wiggling.

My beautiful puppy was clearly ADHD, but I loved him anyway.