Stupid commercials for I don’t even know what. TV shows that are supposed to be so different from my life. Books that she never even saw. All of these things, everything reminds me of her tonight.
I wonder what I did not know, what I never knew to ask about. I wonder what her secret joys and private sorrows were. I wonder what she would have said to me now, tonight, this minute.
And now, tonight, this minute, I cannot her. I cannot make fun of these commercials or shows. I can’t tell her about the book I’m reading. I can’t share my secret joys or private sorrows with her.
The hardest part is that I cannot think of any specific thing I would say to her. Nothing but specific but still everything. My life. My day. Now, tonight, this minute.