The Choice Of Us

Letting Go

TIANA

Brother

Son

Friend

Three words that stared back at me. I stood directly in front of his grave pulling my jacket tightly in the hopes of easing the sudden chill I felt

This may have been a bad idea.

I spun on my heel having made up my mind to leave and in my pursuit towards the car I stopped mid-step at the sight of my mother standing by the car shaking her head.

Damn it!

Releasing a shaky breath, I steeled myself at the realization there was no escaping this. I faced his resting place once more unsure of what to say. And for a second I felt myself stumble back to the day we put his body into the ground. . .

It rained black and grey that day

And no other worse truth stared back at me at the fact I would never see his face.

Nor hear his deep laugh that sparked a joy in me. A joy that trampled the doubts and fears.

"I miss you," I suddenly began on the blank page shuffling on my feet to buy myself more time.

Just say something- anything.

It's never been hard to tell him anything, so why should it start now?

"I know it might be . . . a little hard to believe, g-given I haven't been visiting you unlike everyone else," I chuckled nervously stuffing my shaking hands into my pockets.

"But its been hard to come to terms with the fact I can't call you anytime. Even though I used to complain about it- I miss having you show up out of the blue to keep me company. . . Y-You know, I was really surprised you wrote poetry. . . I never knew your ass could be so corny," I felt the grin stretch across my face despite the wet trail of tears at the memory of each day I spent with my head between the pages in awe of each piece until the harsh truth I couldn't find his book made the sadness worse.

A sob broke out on my trembling lips at how screwed up this entire thing was. And the pang of pain in my chest made breathing a little harder.

"I-I miss you . . . so much. Y-You didn't deserve to go like that, T. . . I wouldn't even wish such a fate upon my worst enemies. But . . . uh t-there's this word as of late I began to ponder on more and more."

I paused briefly wondering if this was even the appropriate thing to say or if I really wanted to spend my time with him talking about this.

But baby this is Tim. . . . The same guy you could tell anything to and be free enough to express your deepest thoughts without facing any judgement.

"There's this woman I met . . . an old client of mine whos been through so much. . . Had a part of herself ripped out and nearly destroyed by someone who only saw her as an object. A-And anyone," I murmured taking a seat on the ground to cope with the weight of the world on me, unveiling more of myself to him in the hopes saying it will somehow- save me." Anyone in her position could have easily developed a deep-rooted hatred for men. She could have painted them all in the same shade of destruction- cursed them for what she went through a-and instead . . . she chose to forgive. And yet I can't seem to find the same strength to not look at people and deem them all the same. You know. . . I-I even pushed one away- you would've liked him," I chuckled feeling my blurry vision recount the times I saw his face and how he led me to fall," he's a writer like you. And gets on my nerve- just like you . . . but I pushed him off. Told him with all the past history we could never be anything more than strangers passing glances with a thin glass to keep us apart due to the invisible line reminding us to not cross it."