If We Disappear Here

by Mindy Hayes

We both laugh at my dark joke until real tears appear in our eyes. When my eyes close, a hand tugs on my arm. On instinct, I roll into Ledger’s side, and he wraps me in his arms as we cry ourselves to sleep.

Ledger, you’re so respectful that I can’t wait for you to get disrespectful.

“And there’s nothing I can say to make it better. This pain will fester until the day we die. But you know that, too. Each day we’ll learn how to function better while we ache. You just have to live one second at a time.” I’ve lived through enough tragedies, and I’m still standing. One second. Then another. I’m still here. “I don’t want to ache. I want to end.”

Relatable. The way you can live through tragedies you’d think would be a rock bottom become a new low to live with, and then you somehow keep going.