He brought up my own mortality this time and that was where the conversation ended and now we are at an impasse. It is in my measured breathing where the conversation is taking place. He watches looking for any sign of weakness. He’s seen me break before and he knows that I’m one memory away.
I look around and I don’t think that anyone else sees him here with me. He’s my invisible date and he likes it that way.
His appearance at my mother’s bedside was a blessing that I had prayed for. He took too long that time and the suffering seemed endless. Last night he showed up where he wasn’t invited.
He mocks me with his smile.
“Some say that I have impeccable timing and yet you are never happy,” he challenges me.
I lift the mug off the table and peer over it. Still silent.
His phone rings and he stands up pushing his chair back in one fluid motion as if he never even touched the floor. He has somewhere else to go. Some other family’s heart to break.
Death bends over and gently moves the strand of hair that has fallen across my forehead. His lips are cold against my skin. He sighs and I feel the chill of his breath on the nape of my neck.
“Some day, sweetheart, you’ll realize that it’s too late to miss someone after they are gone and you have to start loving them while they’re here”