i hope you're not lying. i hope that smile is real. i hope you're feeling better than ever. i hope you get every pretty thing you deserve. if you're happy then it's okay. with happiness there's still empty but the fear ends. i just want all the remarkable things for you, beautiful. you are to be quietly celebrated in my heart.

how do you write a eulogy for someone still breathing?
i do not know stories of you. i know how you feel in a hug. i know the way your jumpers smell. i know the sound of your voice and how you're hard to understand when you're being funny because your dutch accent takes over. i know the twinkle in your eye when you get it, the way they crinkle slightly at the corners when you're amused, the way you drag your feet and the way your posture changes when you see your wife. forever a gentleman, forever a gentle man. i know the ripple in your laugh and the sound of your sleep. i know your qualia. i know your love. but these observations, they're not meant to be shared the moment you go. they are to be savoured and unaffected by bitter tears. they're to keep my heart warm and my smile bright. i don't know stories, i know small things. i know your favourite slippers and the container you use for your after dinner snacks - particularly peanuts ha. i know how you make your milo and the way you like your whiskey. i know that you love me. i will keep these things safe with me. i will keep you safe with me.

"how did she die?"
"excuse me? i'm sorry, no, she didn't die. but that doesn't make it any less tough. sometimes it's the watching them trying so hard to live that's hardest."

because, forever.

because I said forever. forever. forever. forever. forever. forever. forever. forever. forever. forever  forever. forever. forever. forever. forever.  forever. forever. forever. forever. forever. forever  forever. forever. forever. forever. forever.  forever. forever. forever. forever. forever. forever. forever. forever. forever. forever. forever. and I mean forever. and I will never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never. never not mean forever.

at your place, i lay on the couch as you tucked yourself completely away under a blanket on the floor before me. while you were busy hiding yourself, you did your best to leave me bare. questions on questions. deflection on deflection. you like to ask me things you've already found your favourite answer to, questions with connections and anticipation, like my opinion is strong enough to affect reality. it's clear in your voice that these questions count. repeat, explain, explain in another way. i don't know a sensitive way to put a perceivably negative opinion about the fate of our future, especially to someone so hopeful. i don't want to upset you however i won't lie about my thoughts. all i can say is that they are merely thoughts, opinions, and that despite what they may imply to you, i love you and you're important. 

Opa Koster.

always the quiet one. s always spoke before, over, after, for me. at my grandparents she would consume everyone, debating and arguing, telling stories and lies, all as loudly as she could. i would sit and listen like the rest. i remember though, trying to ask questions or share a thought every so often only to be cut off. i would be on my way to discouragement and i'd look to opa. beautiful opa. and he'd look right back at me. not through me to her, not a glance to make me feel included. he'd look at me. he taught me to wink on these occasions. one eye, then the other. it took me a while but i got there. it was, it is, our thing. he makes me feel special. i love him.

it's once, and it's again.

Beckoning me backward.