the golden age of wisdom

The scariest moment of my life was the first time I heard the words
“he’s gone”

Gone where? Why didn’t he take his car? Did he pack enough to eat?
‘Cause I always get hungry during trips – even ones just to the store – and I don’t
want him to be hungry. When is he coming back?

A thousand questions that no one could answer because what the fuck
do you tell a child that doesn’t understand what you’re not saying? You can dress up
death all you like, cover it in euphemisms and candied phrases, but to a creature
that would run around naked if parents didn’t say “no that’s not okay”
it makes no sense.

You didn’t say what I had to hear. You said “gone” and expected me to understand.
Is it any wonder I waited by the door for four days? You said gone and I heard
“they’ll be back soon.” 

And even when you pulled me into the living room, sat me down, and tried to say
“they’re never coming back never not anymore they’ve moved on passed away
stopped breathing their heart has stopped their whole body has stopped stopped stopped
and you’re never going to see them again do you understand? Do you get it now
there are no more visits no more presents no more hugs or kisses you will never see them
ever again” 

I just never got why. Why did his heart stop? Was it tired? Sometimes I get tired too
when I run for really long, I have to rest for a while. It’ll start back up when it feels better.
Don’t fucking worry mom. 

Apparently, when I was four we were at the ocean and I ran down a pier.
It looked like it went on forever. Stretched into the horizon and over the edge.
Sprinted across the wood, my feet were cracked and raw – I split my heel on a splinter.

It would have made a kickass scene in a movie. The sort where I was going to stand 
at the edge, curl my toes over, and howl. It would have been harrowing. The sort of thing that made you rethink the lung capacity of a human being.

I’ve been running down that pier my whole life. 
The funeral was my scream. The moment realization sank in.

He wasn’t gone. He was done. Complete.
At the end of the pier.

The monsters under my bed stopped visiting me at night.
I wasn’t scared of them anymore