And just like that, he's gone. "That" could be a snap of one's fingers or a long and painful ride. The fact remains, however, that the last exchange is all you have. Of course, I can't afford to live with that sort of guilt. In the end, I'd like to believe people don't die with bitterness in their hearts. People die reminding themselves what it meant to be alive.
I want to reach out, but this time the distance is more than just miles. I would give anything to be able to say to her face, "I understand." Empathy comes with experience, unfortunate or not. I just want to be there when I know I can be.
I've always been terrible when it comes to comfort; however in serious cases, I like to think I step up when needed. And, wanted or not, I've caught myself being the one people find when they need someone to listen. I may not be their best option, but if they choose me, I must not be their worst.
Death brings demons that are buried inside of us. You feel every moment of love and anger you've ever felt towards a person when you realize you can't express anymore to them. You can't hold them, you can't say all the wrong things in the heat of the moment, you can't forgive them.
I just want her to know she has a friend. And even if she may never know that, she's surrounded by people who care. People she needs to keep close. People who have helped her stay strong through so much. I just pray she doesn't seclude herself. It's okay to feel every emotion and remember every memory. It's okay to grieve. I hope she knows that. I wish I could be there to tell her that. Because I may have never been graceful at good-byes, but I'm a professional when it comes to pushing people away.