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It was never the right time to speak of things that really mattered, and yet we spoke, you and I in a language that we both understood. We had learned that it was never going to be the right time for us early on and so we lived side by side in a world where dialogue was only necessary for the inconsequential issues of the day. At least to you, they were inconsequential but to me they weighed heavily on my heart: because I ached and longed to know you in a way that would bind us together and satisfy those deep desires, release the pain of unspoken feelings, construct ethereal edifices eagerly in which we both could meet and greet ourselves, linking us eternally and tethering us to our truth.

I learned from bitter experience that our truth was a lie. You and I were never meant to seize the day, smile unfettered by the sadness that came our way from time to time, engage in conversation, cleverly constructed, clearing the way for an understanding far removed from the murky maelstrom our lives seemed bent on taking – a direction in which we were both passengers and yet neither of us knew the way.

Now separated by death, not by choice, but because that is the way of life: I linger longingly in the empty space that has been left with all the questions I didn’t ask, all the answers I might have been given, all the different ways you made me feel, but mostly all the missed opportunities that presented themselves but I was never brave enough to grasp, grateful though that I experienced your greatness in all its flawed guises.

Marie Williams – May 2017

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