there are some things that scar your soul forever.

as we all stood there, waiting, holding our collective breath, he could not wait any longer. death is a merciful shepherd. he could not even speak. i do not know if he even felt us there anymore. we knew it was coming, that last slow shallow breath. and then we were there without him. a body is just a shell, a loose cage. i wanted so badly to run, to never stop running. but i could do nothing, just stand and hold on, to my mother, my sister, his sister, his mother, his brother. i was twenty-one in 2004. he was almost twenty-four. almost. twenty-six days later, i got my first tattoo. it was going to say “never forget” in latin, in a banner underneath, but that would have been superfluous. i will never forget who it is for.

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we were in the hallway. at the foot of the stairs, outside my apartment door. i think there was a carpet on the old draughty wood floor. i froze. it is what i am most ashamed of. it caught me by surprise is all. the fierceness of his grip on my shoulders. the look in his eyes. he was not then the man i thought i knew. it was nothing, but it was everything. was that the same night he locked me out? that jon stayed on our couch, when we figured out he was crazy?