I was thinking about the day of your funeral. The sky was impossibly blue. Not a cloud in the sky. I was in black from head to toe. I kept bowing, getting down on my knees, getting up, and getting down on my knees again. So many people came, strangers and friends, wringing my hands. I couldn't stop crying, but I also couldn't comprehend the circus around me. Your face looked like a mask, not at all like the you I know. But then thinking about the you that I know made me cry all the same.
When we were about to leave I ran outside the hall, and was surprised at the weather.
Today I thought of you for no reason other than the blue sky, and wanted to cry.