Another Anniversary Over.

Day 732.

And so here I am, two years without Luke. Two years with Luke being dead.

The Yahrzeit candle lightings are over, the food: eaten, the drink: drunk, the people went home. The house restored.

Adam and George went to work.

I’m exhausted. I’m alone in bed.

I can’t be bothered to reach out. It’s futile.

I miss my sparkling boy. I don’t miss the drugs though.

I still search for my fault in his death.

I still am tortured by how I could not save him.

I still rotate all the endless scenarios. The shoulda woulda coulda of the loss of a child to drugs.

Marlon has still not told me what I want to know.

Less people post on his tribute page.

Less people came to to mark the anniversary of his death. More people cancel, or don’t show.

George is angry. Adam is frozen.

I am fighting to stay open and fluid and not curl up in a ball, so that I can be of use.

I know that this wave will pass as so many others have.

But where am I today? I’m in bed at noon.

Naked, sobbing. Alone.