Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry.

I guess I didn’t want the day to pass without saying something,
writing something down,
feeling something.

I had a pretty good day.
I spent time with loved ones.
I drank good wine and ate fresh-baked cookies.
But of course, in the back of my mind, I think to myself:
fuck.
Today, two years ago, I lost my best friend.

I just want to be able to call him.
I just want one more Sunday morning in his white Honda Civic,
blasting Breakfast with the Beatles and eating hash browns from McDonald’s.

It’s funny the things you remember about someone when they’re gone.
I think about the barbecues we had,
I think about falling asleep in the movie theater when we went to see
that Benjamin Button movie.
I slept through the whole beginning, and then I woke up and watched the rest.

We used to have so many movie nights —
it was me, Kerry, Joseph, Gretchen.
Sometimes Richard, sometimes Zech, sometimes Bess.
For two years, we spent almost every day together
and then every night.
And when we were apart, we’d call each other.
It’s almost pathetic how codependent we must’ve become.
And when the Coalition fell apart, we kinda fell apart, too.
But I’d still go back,
and when I needed to watch a movie for a class, I’d go to Kerry’s.
We’d watch the classics together,
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington and Citizen Kane.
We’d spend hours playing Scrabble and listening to the Beatles
and the Doors and Dylan.
I wish I still had all those videos I took at 14 Below.

Everything has changed.
I’m happy, I’m happy, I’m happy.
But sometimes I feel so empty.
I love you and miss you so much.

I don’t wanna cry, but I guess it’s better that I waited ’til after bedtime.

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