4.10.25

Spending time alone, I tried to regain my own sense of freedom. There, that was, then, and again. There wasn't anything to be seen in the dark...waves crashing, the scent of trees blooming in the spring. Drifting, I passed by you, buoyed by the wind. Freedom then. Did you also die on that boat? Remembering you, I wept for a history that I didn't recognize. I won't die before my mother, as you promise not to die before yours. Staying alive is the one thing we can do for them, seemingly the only redemption we can offer. I'm sorry if I ever seemed to question your conviction. I do hope you live forever and we can laugh about all this when we reach that place, separately, and together. That winter, my life began to lack specificity, memory, except for; This language and the next, and your body, which for a time felt almost like my own.