A little over nine years ago you called me in the early hours of the morning to let me know that Andrea was gone. Today I was working and going through my normal conversational script. I was nearly done speaking with my customer when I recalled that she worked in your office, just around the corner. I was just about to ask about you- I had been meaning to call on you and attempt to arrange to get breakfast or lunch or dinner or coffee.
So, that is how I learned that you were dead.
I remember saying “What?” and then I could not hear very well.
It seems it Happened in late April. A cruel month.
I had been isolating myself from friends
and the technological innovations of our age
because I had not been managing my emotions well
and I was not interested in inflicting myself onto others.
Can we talk for a second about how fucking stupid this is?
You’re gonna bust your ass for your whole life and become a dentist,
help out all these children, give them confidence and secure their health,
then die in a car accident? It should have been me.
If it had been me it would not have been a tragedy.
Not even a surprise.
The waste I am making of my life seems offensive
now that you have departed.
Remember the summer I wasn’t eating
and you bought me all those groceries,
with that sack of rice that must have weighed fifty pounds?
Why did you do that?
Remember the night in your room at college
when I was drinking vodka out of the bottle (don’t worry I will be more precise)
and I started narcissistically ranting
about how I was practically the culmination of existence,
with the finest intellectual and artistic tastes?
It would embarrassed me if I had the capacity for embarrassment,
to say things like that and live a life like I have lived.
But if I didn’t get embarrassed
why was I afraid to show my face in your office wearing my mechanic’s shirt,
and if I’m so smart
why did I convince myself that you wouldn’t want to see me?
I do not know what I am going to do with myself.
This is not the way things were supposed to be.
So, that is how I learned that you were dead.
I remember saying “What?” and then I could not hear very well.
It seems it Happened in late April. A cruel month.
I had been isolating myself from friends
and the technological innovations of our age
because I had not been managing my emotions well
and I was not interested in inflicting myself onto others.
Can we talk for a second about how fucking stupid this is?
You’re gonna bust your ass for your whole life and become a dentist,
help out all these children, give them confidence and secure their health,
then die in a car accident? It should have been me.
If it had been me it would not have been a tragedy.
Not even a surprise.
The waste I am making of my life seems offensive
now that you have departed.
Remember the summer I wasn’t eating
and you bought me all those groceries,
with that sack of rice that must have weighed fifty pounds?
Why did you do that?
Remember the night in your room at college
when I was drinking vodka out of the bottle (don’t worry I will be more precise)
and I started narcissistically ranting
about how I was practically the culmination of existence,
with the finest intellectual and artistic tastes?
It would embarrassed me if I had the capacity for embarrassment,
to say things like that and live a life like I have lived.
But if I didn’t get embarrassed
why was I afraid to show my face in your office wearing my mechanic’s shirt,
and if I’m so smart
why did I convince myself that you wouldn’t want to see me?
I do not know what I am going to do with myself.
This is not the way things were supposed to be.
