When you went it hurt.
Absence like an abscess.
A life that once danced around and
Told jokes.
Math problems unanswered,
Mornings hushed.
A pained smile.
“He’s doing well.”
Sad songs on my guitar.
“Yes, a natural transition.”
Yes.
Naturally difficult.
Naturally lonely.
Naturally alone.
In October,
In his dorm room,
I met his fun friends,
And skepticism vanished.
In the philosophy lecture,
I took notes,
As if I understood epistemology.
Unfamiliarity was daunting yet exciting.
I slept in his room one night, just like old times.
The inflatable mattress I wrote my name on
After I’d woken up with a
Heartening pain in my back.
He was okay.
I am okay.