not everyone survives. (you know this.) sometimes I wish I could ask you how we did it. not because I need reasons or ways. and not even because I need to understand the difference between you and me and someone who dies alone in a truck in a field.
I need to know that you still saw something in me when I was at my worst. I don't mean some kind of strength to pull through, or that sort of thing, but I need to know that you saw me. that I was not, am not, unknown. that I am not as ordinary as you later made me feel and as I have been feeling lately. that I wasn't always expendable.
I don't even know if I have faith anymore that you understood or would understand. you are so far away. but if not you, who, really.
so, have you figured it all out yet, how to be happy, how to be sad and kind, how to be.
m
