Prologue (2011)

He's gone. He zipped up his black hoodie, packed up the last of his things, put them in the bed of his truck, and left. Left me. He's gone.

No drama. No passion at the passing of this life we shared. Relief, acceptance, yes, but no tears, no love, no hate. It just was. That was true for both of us. I just don't understand how. For two people who fought to be together, fought to stay together, and fought most of the days in between, how could the end be so quiet? So pale when all the days together that had come before had been blazing red or ice blue? How, when time spent in contact with each other was fraught with a kinetic energy that hummed, buzzed, thrummed between us, can the final moment be silent, still, exhausted? So many little encouragements, so many small disapprovals, culminating in nothing but indifference.

I am honestly more upset by my non-reaction to his departure than by his absence. That's why he's gone. He's gone, and it's my fault.