Memories

I keep looking through my camera roll. Desperately scrolling for traces of you. Combing my memories and grasping for something you left. We did so much together. I had so many memories of you. Why does it feel like there is nothing left. I panic, knowing there is something somewhere. We had so many pieces of each other. But for the last decade, I have been running from myself. From the person who knew you best. I desperately wanted you to be you. I wanted you to be free. I guess now you are. But it doesn’t feel like it. You had so much to give to this world. You gave so much to me. Why does it feel like I have nothing left of you now. I wish I could give you one last gift. Go walking in the woods over by your mom’s old house one last time. I wish we could go buy turtle necklaces at the renaissance fair again or sit in the dark at night and listen to the crickets chirp while we look at the stars. I want to hear you play bass again. I want to hear your dumb singing voice that always made me laugh. I want you to make me ramen again and then drain all the water so it’s too salty. I wanna pet Jester again. And eat Taco Bell. I wanna smell the incense in your truck and see the wizard statue in your room. Why did it have to end this way.