Hey Man

Hey man. I can almost hear your voice sometimes. The way you would answer the phone when I called.

There’s just a lot of shit that would be so great to talk to you about. Weird childhood memories/dreams I’ve been having. The Joss Whedon fallout (man, did you call that shit a LONG TIME AGO). Netflix’s hype of the live-action 1990’s TMNT that is scaring children (they can’t handle the FACES…watch some Dark Crystal and then tell us what you think is weird and scary). The utter bullshit of that Senate mess for the Voting Rights Bill. God, we would’ve screamed so loudly about that. HOW STUPID and frustrating. You would’ve had some great commentary about that.

I was telling my therapist about a memory I had of the last time you saw our parents. I started laughing describing how you talked about that visit. Because it made me remember how funny you were, the unique way you described things and for a very brief moment, I just felt light and joyful talking about you. I was just filled with love and happiness thinking about how we would talk to each other sometimes. I was reminded how grateful I am that we managed to have any kind of a functioning relationship for a little while and when I have those memories, it’s both such a comfort and a terrible ache. My therapist could see it in my face that I was enjoying the memory and she said she really got a sense of how funny and sharp you were.

That is what I am now, a living reminder of how funny and sharp you were. I want to visit that place more often. The place where I just feel happy and joyful thinking about you.