I climb into bed, the warm covers comfort my haggard body. The kind pillows unabashfully embrace my limb cranium. To say I am looking forward to the gentle embrace of sleep would be a gross underestimation.
It has been a long day. 20 hours to be exact.
I put my IPod on shuffle. My eyes close, then without warning, flutter open. My mind conjures an image of a soaring hummingbird on a glorious spring day. (Don't ask me why, maybe it was the rhythmic fluttering, but then again who really knows?} The sun shimmers, water glistens, people are out and about, walking, smiling, living. I feel sleep slowly encasing my body, my conscious begins to fade.
The first song ends. There is a moment of brief silence. Then the song comes on.
I am now wide awake. The ambient noise slowly filling my dorm room recreates your face with alarming accuracy. I see your freckles, your hair, your smile.
The piano part begins to slowly fade in and all the old emotions come rushing back; shock, pain, hate, anger, frustration, sorrow. I look out my window, and there are no stars in the night's sky. There are never stars anymore.
The lead singer begins to sing.
I remember the meeting. This was after they told us of course. We were all in that dam room. Some people were already crying, counselors telling us we would all be OK. We weren't all right, things had changed.
Taking a seat, I survey the room, study the sorrow, observe the tragedy. I feel numb, so fucking numb. Then after a few moments in this den of despair, it hits me; not like a wave or lighting bolt, but more akin to a stark realization, a realization of what has transpired here. What has occurred on this dark dreary anonymous February day. I look to my friends, and they seem shocked I am sobbing, crying for the soul of our lost friend. In truth, I am crying for us all.
I'm back in my bed. The chorus begins. That glorious chorus.
I return to the night I stood upon the top of a mountain, cursing at the world. For these few nocturnal hours, I am the harpy of the world, but no one is hearing my song, listening to my call, heading my wail. Do they even care? Are more important things really happening? Why do these people not stop? Do they not realize what has happened here? This is the end of us, this chapter of our weak, pitiful, mortal existences. We can never go back, never, do you here me? Never. We are done. We are fucking done.
The song ends, tears stream down my face, I turn off the lights. Go to sleep.
I awake the next day and smile, because I know that since I lost you, you will forever be with me.