I saw you again last night.
It had been years,
but nothing changed.
You seemed younger,
but only because I’m the one who’s aged.
There was great solace in being near you
and when I woke it was more of a memory than a dream.
I think about you falling sometimes though.
When I tell people what happened,
they become so upset.
They’re insulted by my nonchalance,
but they didn’t know you.
To be honest, I find comfort in the wind hitting your face.
I wonder what it felt like.
I wonder what it feels like.
I suppose I should be distraught or mournful,
but there really was no other ending for you
besides the one you chose.