After you've gone

About a month ago now, I guess, you moved back to New York. I don't know how things really are going but I hear from you quite frequently and it's nice to know you're still alive. We don't really have conversations - just little pings of quips or photos. Once you said you were feeling stressed and anxious. Other times you reply to my notes about post that had come for you, or send me cute animal photos from Reddit. 

We redecorated your room a little. Swapped the old bed for a new one and got a vintage shelf. Now we play music in that room in the evenings. Unsurprisingly I've decided to leave your blanket and pillow on the bed. I still go there to nap sometimes because I miss the smell of you. 

Walking to the grocery store the other day I thought of how it was when you were living here. Sometimes when I used to see you come out of your room unexpectedly I was still struck by your presence (the color of your hair, the shape of your nose, how you wear a hoody like its a permanent hug). It seems unfair to me that when the sight and thought of you can bring me so much joy, none of that makes a dent to you in your misery. I wish that I could take some of the happiness you bring to me, and make you feel it too.

I know sometimes things were hard and we were both very sad and frustrated. But when I have the presence of mind, I remember that you are not the sum of your problems, overwhelming though they may be. I'm friends with the person who is struggling against all the things he is not.

Once when you first took the medication for acute anxiety you told me that you feel very woozy and might not remember anything later, because it interferes with short term memory. I said well in that case I want you to know that I love you and I've always loved you. You laughed and went back to your room. 

There are times when I don't know if you find my affection for you awkward and/or troublesome, but I think mostly you like being liked (like that time when I called you fat-face and you said unfortunately it's true and I said oh come on, that was clearly a sign of affection and you laughed). 

I also cannot really explain why I should feel so strongly about you, but I'm ok with that. Like you always say, it is what it is - except maybe I say that with acceptance whereas you sometimes say it more so in resignation. It's odd but I've found time and time again that when I feel this way about someone I don't really think it's necessary that my feelings are reciprocated. I just want to be able to express fully how I feel without being a nuisance. It seems that we're ok at this equilibrium. The rest of the time I just want you to be happy again - maybe not today or tomorrow or the day after, but at some point. It would be good to see you smile and laugh and enjoy being your loving, wonderful self.

I still (I think) say goodnight to you every night - just a message. Sometimes I tell you love you or send you a hug or a squish. I don't quite know why it's so important to me, this ritual. Maybe because it's the only thing I can do. Occasionally you write me back but usually not. Once or twice you've written to say you miss us and I promise to visit when the pandemic is through. 

Sometimes my phone shows me photos from the past and every time I see your handsome face I feel a surge of affection and hope that we'll (all of us) be happy again.