It's all very real now.

Explain it all to me. Please. I’m listening. I know it may not look like I am; but I am. Or least I’m trying to. You have a lot to tell me. I have a lot to learn from you. Simple things really, like what happens when things don’t go your way, and how you keep your cool. I may need your recipe for baked ziti. I didn’t really like when it I was a kid but now it’s something I couldn’t live without. What if you left before I was able to get that recipe? I’d never have your ziti again. Sure, I could come close… That’s sickening. Not the spaghetti, just finality. Death really stops me from experiencing anything about you. Not a single time more do I get to shake your hand. I don’t get to hear the laugh that you sometimes let out when you really find something funny. I wish you didn’t have to leave. I know it is something that has to happen, but really it's so cruel.

Every day people lose someone and tragedy overwhelms them. For some just a day is all it lasts, if they aren’t too attached. Maybe a week for others, and some like me could absolutely never get used it. I know you’ve had the same problem as well. You never got rid of the ghosts in your mind; they remind you of all the bad times of the past.

It’s probably better not to dwell too hard on those losses. How can you possibly live your life if you consume yourself with memories? It’s bad enough that we relive memories all the time from the recent past. It’s really painful when we have to picture ourselves younger and see a more energetic lifestyle. Where did it go some ask? I’m sure you know. I know too. I’ve been there watching TV until three in the morning watching shows that don’t interest me. What kind of life is that exactly? How can you go on living your life through someone else’s all the time? It’s so passive, so dirty. I can develop some real self hatred after a twelve hour binge on the couch. Yes, there are some entertaining shows in there and thought provoking ideas. All the while though I’m being blasted with jingles and thirty second skits about products I never needed before and probably don’t need now.

Give me conversation. No wait. Give me a desire for conversation. I could be having funny conversations about my friend’s sour love life. I don’t need to hear Chandler talk about his. It is silly sometimes when I think about. I know conversation like that is particularly and purposefully humorous, but I also know that many great friendships have been bonded as a result of conversations that lasted until three in morning and TV wasn’t a major player. Out on the black tar in parking lot of a strip mall is what I prefer. It’s provides unheeded summer breezes and cars to sit in when it gets too cold. The light can be just perfect if the spotlights are still on, enhancing someone’s natural beauty in the way that bar lighting is dim enough to make us look pretty.