In Your Wake

1

"What do you think stars would taste like?" 

You glanced at me with a serious face. As if you really thought the question was more than just a conversation starter. What could I say? My mind never truly travelled in the places yours did.

"Like hydrogen." I said, taking the logical answer.

"Stars are made of mainly helium and hydrogen." 

"Why not helium then?" you said draping your leg over the armrest of your chair. It looked like such an uncomfortable position, but you were never know for sitting in conventional ways. 

"It was just the first thing I thought of" I responded. And it was true. There was no real reason besides that. Just like there wasn't a real reason besides boredom to ask a question like that. You probably didn't have any true intention when you asked me that right? 

We continued to sit in the living room of my small apartment leisurely. There wasn't anything to do on a hot summer day like that one. The window was open, then broken air conditioner was off, and we were seated a good distance from each other at your request. 

"It's so hot todayyyy" you would whine. And I would smile in agreement. You were bad at handling heat. Maybe that's why you asked such a question. Or maybe it was because you were slowly losing your mind.

I know you didn't think I'd find out. I know you didn't expect to leave me like this. But you did and now I'm here with the plans we made, the feelings I feel, without you. 

I remember receiving the call at work that you were in the hospital. I remember rushing to your side but only arriving to late. I remember finding out that you had pancreatic cancer for the past 3 months. That was right after I proposed to you. 

I don't remember the week between your death and the funeral. I do remember the day of the funeral. How ashamed I felt. How I couldn't bring myself to cry. I didn't feel sad, in fact I felt nothing at all. Your death was so sudden. 

What was I to do? What was I supposed to do with these feelings? What was I supposed to do with our future? Why didn't you tell me? Did you trust me at all? And more importantly:

Who was I without you?

It's still hot outside, that's one thing that hasn't changed since you left. Despite you not being here, many things surprisingly have not changed.

The room we shared is still the same, the air conditioner is still broken, the chair you liked to sit weirdly in is still under the window. The distant relatives and friends who attended you funeral have gone back home and gone back to their lives and in a way, so have I but things don't feel the same. 

I have so many questions for you, but I know I will never see them answered. You won't respond to me anymore.