the art of (coping) losing

it was 7am in the morning. two days before Christmas. less than a week after our third graduation together.

she spoke casually as i leaned over the kitchen sink, about her dad's reaction when she announced that she was going home after all.

i tipped my mug over, and watched as my black tea slowly stained the kitchen sink.

she laughed, slightly nervously, as she tried to illustrate her plans for the very near future.

i laughed nervously too, making sure my heavy heart wouldn't sink too low.

someone once predicted that i'd feel the way i felt then, many times over. but he left out tips on how to cope.

as the cold running water washed away the tea, i wondered silently if it was too late to spend too much time with one of the three people who were there for the most part of my life.

i wonder if she could tell that i was acting cool in the heat of the moment.

and though i'll never say this to her in person, i wonder if she knows that no matter what she chooses to do or be, i'll be happy for her, and that i did not steal this line off a lame hallmark card.

i'll miss being able to call and talk nonsense with you, ana s.