Rage against the dying of the light

My Michee has died.

http://fuguesatori.bandcamp.com/

I've spend all day sitting at the jersey shore and at the beautiful ocean and I keep thinking of her and how she told me a few weeks ago she was going to write me a song to help heal me because I've been so sick for so long and my head keeps getting worse.

And I hadn't talked to her on the phone for a while and I thought about doing that. And now I can't.

And it was a wonderful day at the beach and I'm crying so hard and it's hard to talk about because the people who knew and loved her aren't in my life as much as they were before (if at all) and I just want to talk about my michee.

My wonderful beautiful michee. Who would listen to me. Who invited me to her wedding and loved me and him together and me and him apart and just loved. Whom I told that I would carry her child if she ever wanted to have kids.

I remember the Michelle clause we had in our relationship.
I remember when I was one of the first people she called after her mother died.
I remember her stories of her exes. I remember the love and the music and her beautiful words.


People my age are supposed to be having kids and getting married. Not dying. Not someone who loved as much as she did.



And how am I supposed to breathe?
I can spout a bunch of things about how I knew something was wrong. She was too quiet. Or that the random carrion birds I've been seeing should have warned me. Or the face that she's been in my dreams and thoughts lately along with others.

Or how I still feel her. Over my right shoulder. Whispering in my ear "It's okay my love. It's okay." Or feel her hand on my back and her tears mixing with mine.