She will be leaving us soon. Her and all the memories of her. The first places I began to exist, she was there. The first person to show me things, was her. The person I wanted more than anyone in the world, the one who could make anything right again, is her. Yes, she. That, her. She will be leaving me soon.
She who knew everything, now asks me for my help and my opinion. She who had everything all worked out, who had all the solutions, relies on my logic now, my decisions. She who had a solution to any problem, now asks me for help for the simplest things. She holds my hand, like a child, and implicitly believes that I know all the answers. When I simply know only what she has shown me, and simply all that she has told me.
She, who would talk so much to us, our drives when were together, when the three of us were kids, were full of discussions, in great detail and such length, full of facts and feelings and opinions and exact terminology; now sits alone in a chair and watches TV, content in the spaces behind her blue eyes, content in the inaccessible space of her mind.
She, who would laugh and giggle, is now silent. She, who is my number one sounding board, barely speaks anymore.
I want to run to her and tell her I miss her and need her back. That I am not ready for her to leave me. That I need a "do-over", go back and spontaneously reenact every precious memory of my life, so I can remember it for always. I want to time travel back to every birthday cake she made me or to every dress she hand stitched, or every time she brushed my hair. The problem is that when you are living life, you forget to fully appreciate everything that you have, in that exact moment. You are incapable of fully enjoying every nuance and subtlety of your intimate connections with another human being, until it is almost gone.
