Blue

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April 22nd, 1999 8:37 p.m.

Another night in the quiet of Q's apartment, the TV was merely just white noise to him as he directed his attention out the window. There, in the cool evening of the Staten Island sky, was a hazed mass of stars barely poking through the thick clouds that hung just below them. He looked on at how each dazzled in the magnificent royal blue sky, occasionally getting mixed in with the artificial lights of planes that cut through. As he stared out, this was the time where he was truly tranquil. The time where he could allow his mind to wander beyond mere day to day life related duties he needed to fill like 'do I have enough milk for breakfast tomorrow?' 'I wonder how bad the traffic is gonna be tomorrow.' No, this was a moment where he allowed himself to escape within the theatre of his mind and ponder on aspects of his own life which he thought he had long forgotten.

He travelled in mentally and dusted off reels of random memories. Unlabelled, he places them into the projector and the day-dream begins to play against the screen of his skull.

He remembers nights like these back in college. He could still smell the scent of college kid meals that consisted of microwave hot dogs, cheap ramen bowls, and whatever mystery meat they served in the dining hall of campus. He remembered how Suzy would always collect him on a Friday evening and they would treat themselves to a restaurant for the evening to remind them that there's still such a thing as good food, just not on school campus. It was their way of escaping school and finding ways to get out of their dorms for some much needed fresh air. He missed her and wondered how she was doing. That's when the reel was switched up to that one night. That fateful night was a major turning point. The room felt stuffy, he could smell the cheap beer that lingered on his clothes, and her eyes. Those sad green eyes that held sorrow for him and those eight words:

"I hope you find yourself out there Brian." It wasn't the last words she ever spoke to him, but it was the last words needed to wake him up. Aftershock of that memory reverberated within him and in that moment, a new box of reels was opened. Soon the memory illuminated within and began to play.

Vivid memories of him. Sal. The rocky path they had travelled together to a paved path of comfort, only to have the fork in the road force them apart like two north poles on a magnet. No matter how much he forced the paths together, it seemed to only make the divide even greater and harder to deal with. If he was in the neighborhood, he would use it as an excuse to pass by his house. And each time he would hope and pray to whatever divine being was willing to listen that he would see him again, he would be able to hold him again in his arms and just cry. But every time, it was nothing but a quiet house and an empty lawn and he would drive along and reopen wounds he thought had finally healed. He always asked Joe and James if they had heard anything, something from him. It was always the same answer. It killed the two to always have to deliver the fruitless news, but what else was there to do?

"What's the sky look like where you are?" He would say quietly into the phone.

"Blue." He could hear the response in his head. The familiar and distant voice. His voice had become a hazy memory after not hearing it for so long, but he still clung to the octaves of his voice as tight as he could. Their 'I love you' without ever saying it.

He often wondered whether he could have done something differently, if there was a way he could have saved him. He played out the 'what ifs' constantly, mapping out the endless shred of possibilities of what he could have done to have made things different, to have made things better, to have made things safe for him. The vine of those ideas flourished inside, thorns stabbing into his lungs leaving him writhing in agony for breath. Endless tendrils of greenery constricted him and only made the entanglement of complicated emotions even more knotted and overwhelming

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