02:47 am. i am on the bench, alone, waiting...

the stranger sees me, sighs and asks me wheezing:
"you yearn for someone, too. don't you?"
i gasp. he passes by me and stops.
"what do i have to do to get rid of the yearning? i'm not ok..."
i say nothing, but in my eyes he could've read my answer, my cries and my yearn.
my yearns...
"i should go to sleep, right?"
i smile.
„but does it go away?”
„it certainly does not go away, but at some point you will get used to it and it's like a friend new in town that you take out for a walk.”, i answer him.
"you miss him, don't you?"
i gasp again. we look quietly at each other for a few seconds. then my phone rings.
"tell him that. you might be surprised. now i'll go, pick it up. good night!"
i managed to say: "take care of your yearns!" and i picked up the phone.

it was not him.

"It happened eight months ago. You should be okay by now. It isn't an excuse." I'm told after admitting I don't have the drive to really do anything anymore. I really wasn't trying to use it as an excuse.

Today I was going for a run,
It was beautiful out. The sun was hitting the trees in such a way that I would never be able to capture fully with a camera.
I had just gotten back from a family party.

I was thinking about it, who I saw, what went on, something was missing, someone was missing, suddenly I was not running anymore.

I was crying. I was hunched over trying to compose myself. I began to panic.

The words from his note, "I'm sorry" flashed in my head like police lights. What could I have done? I asked. There was nothing you could do. I told myself.

Each realization hit me like a bullet. Memories flooded into my mind. Just short beautiful moments.

I tried to push them back so desperately. I want to save them. I do not want to wear them out to the point where one day I will not be able to remember the crinkled eyed smile I loved so much.

I tried to catch my breath. It was no use. I couldn't.

I haven't been able to since September. I don't feel like I will ever be able to.

Almost eight months ago my grandfather took his own life and I'm told I should be okay. I'm told I should be able to go about my life normally.

"Okay." I respond.

Home is where the heart is
At least, that's what they say

But what if
Your heart has been
c  h  o  p  p  e  d
splintered     k
b                 o                             n
   r                            e
Into a million pieces

Each part belonging
To a different
Person, place, time