I always used to say goodbye to my dad at train stations, one of his favorite places in Britain. He would stand on the platform and watch me board. I would find a window seat and wave at him. Sometimes we cried as the train started moving. It was like a rehearsal for the big losses, the irreversible ones that life has so many of.
Some days my inner voice just sounds like this:
hiiiiii where are you?
where did you go?
come back!
come back!
come back
come back
come back
come back?
come back!
come back…
where are you?
come back
i miss you
come back
Some part of me never wants to let go of anybody, wanting to erase every loss and absence. I know it’s a pure fantasy because if it could come true, I wouldn’t want it to. Loss makes so many things possible; it makes us possible.
And yet. Come back. Where did you go?