different names for the same thing

Last night I dreamed about you and it was so real, so vivid, that even as I woke I was under the belief you were here, in my life, again. As wakefulness surfaced and I lay still in bed next to my husband and firstborn child I began to know you were still gone, never to be seen again. A deep and profound sadness absorbed me; a deep sorrow for loss, for the lack of closure in a muddled but happy chapter in my life.

In some way you have come to represent so many of my losses. Those I know and love dying, ill; time and apathy swallowing up the friendships not meant to survive. How many of those losses can I count to myself now, when only a few years ago it seemed I had lost nothing? Death approaches, from what distance we can only lie to ourselves about. Even those I can reclaim in some way have still suffered a type of mortality we can’t overcome.

This morning I turn the heat up, wash dishes, carry my little ones around the house and get them dressed. You and I: the breach between us is solid, established, insurmountable. I wonder where you are now; what you’d be doing if I still knew you.

I pour coffee, start a hot shower, and begin my day.

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