Hal

She didn't like music. She didn't hate it per say but she sure didn't like it.
I asked her why. She told me "Why would i listen to pianos when i could easily submerse myself in the music life plays everyday?" to which i always replied "You know, I hear that in one church hymn, there's a secret chord that connects you with god." She called me naive a lot. I never blamed her.

There was one night, one warm August night we spent together on the patio roof of my apartment. It was muggy out but she said she was tired of sitting inside and watching movies together to which i had to agree. We were talking about life and the way our hands look and the noise it makes when you chew on wet mittens and kites and traffic congestion when it started to rain. I ran to the door way telling her to hurry and get inside, i would make us coffee and we can dry off. She didn't move "I wanna dance! Come dance with me!" I said no, was she crazy? It's pouring outside. "Dance with me, Dance with me." I didn't. I wasn't brave like her. Never will be. We stopped talking. Instead she pirouetted around my roof in the rain and I watched her.Lord, was she beautiful in the moon light. I was suicidal, but i never told her that.

When she died, something moved in me. A spirit, a holy dove, a symbol of peace and a symbol of leaving. I didn't like it, it made me sea sick. Or air sick or car sick or any sick. I didn't like it all.
It made me lose a lot of faith in myself, in god. In the idea that things get better. I didn't have a will to live but i figured i had become so numb that it didn't matter if i stayed or left. So i stayed.

Those last days before she died, she was bitter. The smile that intimidated me, the eyes that could always calm me down, those lips that kissed things better? They were bitter like her. She was delusional and angry and sick and lost. She told me the sickness was my fault, that i didn't pray right, or enough. She fell asleep and i would hold her hand. And i would cry. I miss her so much.

She didn't want a funeral. At first i was angry that i wouldn't get to tell everyone how amazing she was but now i see why. Hal never remembered many things, nothing significant. And she knew to me, to a lot of people, she was. She didn't want a remembrance,she didn't want people to be obligated to mourn, she wanted a cherish. And I do. Everyday.

I did everything I could for her but, it wasn't much. For a while i wasn't capable of feeling so i tried to reach out and feel what others could. Lust, love, anger, sadness and pain at the very least. I went to church and stood before god and told him that i hated him, for taking Hal away from me. Even though i lost faith, i knew she needed it, so i kept it strong for her.

Because it doesn't matter which word of man you've heard, the holy or the broken. You can't lose faith.



*if you know what this is based on, props.