For Ella

This morning I opened my eyes into the dark room and saw the light filtering through the door hanging. I couldn't figure out what time it must be... by the light I should have been woken up by the sounds of you already, but I had a feeling. I sucked in my breath and slipped out of bed to the bright morning light... and silence.
You were gone.
I knew this, but not really. As I moved through the rooms I found Neeka on the sofa playing quietly with her teddy. "Where's Ella?" she asked and I sucked in my breath again. "She's gone, Baby," I told her, "She left already." She looked at me for a second with her head tipped to the side and went back to playing. I let the breath out. I thought she would cry. I sat down behind her on the sofa and she scooted back into my lap and whispered to her teddy with her head against my neck. I realized that it wasn't Neeka that was going to cry. It wasn't Neeka that was missing pieces. I held her for a while, but my heart had started to ache. It didn't know where it lived anymore; alternately trying my stomach and my throat. I held my breath, but it didn't stop the tears that finally started sliding, hot, down my cheeks and pooling on my chest to disappear into the folds of my robe. My breath escaped as a pitiful sound. I sucked it back in. No use. Crying silently doesn't ease the pain or slow the tears.

You're gone and my heart can't find it's way back into place, and something near my core fractured. It will fade, but I suspect that I will always feel it like an injury that doesn't heal right.

Our lives are so different. So far apart. ...but if they weren't... If they weren't I would sew your wedding dress just how you want it. I would light candles and tell you how strong you are while you wait for your baby. I would take you to Mommy and Me, and you would come to the kids' ballet classes. We would celebrate our birthdays for free at Ojo, and cook the turkey and stuffing side by side. We would share coffee and talk about how early we had to get up for presents that day and leave the toy building to the men.
While I'm at it, I think too, that our houses would have to be connected by secret tunnel to make the midnight margaritas easier, and we would lure unsuspecting innocents into games of Bullshit! that are rigged by our eye contact and sheer awesomeness. We'll feed our girl crushes at ladies night out over thick, dark beers and giggles to the soundtrack of awesome live music ladies.

If only.

I miss you.

I carry your heart.





I carry it in my heart.

xoxo