After and Before

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Dedicated to berceuses for the banner. It's perfect – so is Kammi and not only because she made it.

Manhattan by Sara Bareilles in the sidebar. Yet another lady who epitomizes perfection.

   

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Pain does a lot of things to your memories.

“I don't want to beat around the bush.”

You can either remember every single detail.

“I've been feeling this way for a while now.”

Or you could forget.

“And, really, there's just no good way to say this.”

In the moment that's going to be the memory you'll either forget or remember forever, all you'll know is the pain.

“But I have to say it, Joe.”

Your world is crashing down on you so all you really care about is that everything fucking hurts.

“One of us has to.”

Fucking.

“I think we should break up.”

Hurts.

“Joe? Please say something.”

How could anyone say anything after that?

We were at the juice bar. Again.

It seemed to be the only place we ever went to.

The only place I would never want to be in again.

“Joe.”

Your voice shook.

“I'm sorry.”

There was only one other time I heard your voice shake.

“Please say something.”

Your Mom had just died and you were crying.

“Please.”

Everything inside me was in blistering pain.

But I couldn't forgive myself if you started to cry because of me.

If you were in pain because of me.

So I looked up.

“You don't mean that, Kai.”

People say the first stage of loss is denial.

“You do not mean that.”

You looked away and took a breath heavier than my heart.

Then you closed your eyes. Opened them. And looked right at me.

“I mean it, Joe.”

Your eyes were the color of hot chocolate but I was cold.

Frozen. Raw.

“I really do.”

Your voice was as soft as rain but I was being pelted with boulders.

Over and over again.

“No, you don't.”

I was begging you to stay.

“You don't mean it because this is just some weird joke.”

Because you just had to stay.