The Last Time I Saw You

Mon, 02/12/2018 - 12:58 -- fking18

Dear Rebecca,

 

You weren’t yourself the last time I saw you.

If you could read this now, I think you would agree.

To be fair, I don’t think I was truly myself either.

 

I remember someone laughing uncontrollably, first me, than another girl.

The jokes weren’t funny. Everyone else knew it, but we couldn’t stop ourselves.

The fear, the panic, the pre-grief we felt had to bubble up somehow, and that was the way it was going to go.

 

I sometimes wish I had told you this the last time I saw you,

but I don’t think it’s the kind of thing you would have wanted to hear.

No one else wanted you to hear it, either.

 

Let me make one thing clear:

You were never a burden.

At times, your illness was, but you never were.

 

The months and anniversaries after your death always seem so sappy to me.

I don’t miss your “lovely spirit,” or your “generosity to others.”

 

I miss you.

I will always miss you.

 

Wherever you are, I hope you know that.

 

Love,

Fiona

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741