Strike III

She was found unresponsive this morning, the text said. I thought you'd want to know. Tragic details emerge, sorted from lesser points, sifted through fingers that would rather cover ears. Twenty-five years of love sit like a weight in your chest, running scenarios, cobbling solutions. In the back of your head, again the thought, when are we beyond help. You want the answer to be never, every time. You want to call everyone you know and tell them you love them. One night, years ago, I drove too fast through the valley, and really I was chasing your life, one day I held your babies in my arms and didn't know if you ever would again, one night in a cold, dark city far across the waters, I listened to you tell me this was the final straw because you were determined to survive, and I don't know how we ended up here. Weren't you just standing at the precipice of bliss?

How close both sides of the coin sit, after all. How quickly we may fall from one side to the next. The Universe has been leaving me pennies again, I find them everywhere: in the street, on the subway, my pockets are lined with lucky copper and I will take all the luck I can get. This morning I stood in front of a blossoming cherry tree crying, life is overwhelming, and it is short.

We do not have time to fuck around. Make the most of every morsel. And don't ever forget that I love you.