It ended with a slam and a crash. At the time I felt worse about not folding my laundry. I remember the green Christmas dress and navy sweater. I remember the look on your face as I inhumanely slammed the door on you. That haunting face. I can't bare it. I remember everything.
I didn't get you. I never took the time to try. Time better spent in anger, hot coals, the devils lair. Hours spent carefully growing a virus that consumed me. I could have understood you. I could have talked to you. I could have helped. Maybe I could have.
I look back on make believe memories. I imagine sitting across from you as my aunt, yeah, Aunt Silv. I could be Aunt Silv and simply enjoy your company. Your Tennessee stories that you told over and over and over and over and the people laughed every time, not out of pity. though at the time I thought it was pity, but because you were genuinely funny. I remember feeling superior. I wasn't. I look back on make believe memories. I have to. Maybe we liked the same music, maybe we both had stitches in the same places, lip and right eyebrow.
You made my mother so happy, you really did. I never saw her love my dad how she loved you and I hated it. I was an evil shade of spruce. That woman, my mother, the person I was trying to protect, the individual who means more to me then any other person, memory, feeling or thought, the woman who would have died for you and almost did... she is fine now. She does this little head cock and her eye happy twitches and the corners turn up on her tiny mouth and I know she is thinking of you. Some days, she tells me, some days you still call her cell phone, she say's she knows it's you. She still listens to your voicemails. She still can't listen to Tim McGraw.
I was just trying to save her from you. You, you would agree with me if you could. I knew. Oh, I knew, I just didn't know how much.
I wish I would have went on vacation to Tennessee. I wish I would have driven in your vintage car on the dream cruise. The car, the car with the silly bumper stickers and furry dice. I wish I didn't have to wish. Maybe it would have changed things, maybe it wouldn't have.
A phone call, my mother, a piercing scream, a fall heavy like anchor into ebony. A place where a piece of my bad heart died.
It ended with a slam and a crash.
I'm sorry will never be enough.