We jumped into the murky waters hoping for enough depth to swallow us whole. “Hold my hands and don’t ever let go. If one of us sinks, the other will too.” I told her. We didn’t need to wait for exhaustion. Something pulled at our ankles and the air left our lungs as we saw the last of the sun.
She was gone years before this though. If our hands were ever joined, she let go long ago.
She let go but I still see her. Nearly every night she makes an appearance. I guess this is how my mind processes grief. I can never let anyone go completely. It’s normal to miss people who are gone but it isn’t normal to make suicide pacts with ghosts.
It’s not normal for me to be angry at her for stealing the one thing I should have done first.
You always get to be gorgeous.