Alex, we have so much to discuss. A lot has happened since you left me. There are the things I need to catch you up on: Haverford was the choice! How funny is that! And Itsy’s death, her final meal of a Starbucks breakfast sandwich, I let her eat the whole thing and still she yowled and shouted for more.
And I want to know about you: did Itsy come and meet you? And were you glad to see her, and did you laugh when you spotted her lumpy little body trundling your way? Are there pee pads there, or is incontinence an inconvenience of our Earthly Life only?
Did you meet your dad? Did you celebrate your birthday? Do you wear your body, or are you something else now?
Can you see me from where you are? Are you still mad at me, or are you proud at all of the way I’ve handled the hard things?
Did you think the wake and funeral were okay? Were you embarrassed by the open casket, and how everyone looked at you, or looked away?
Do you know how much you are on my mind?
Also, Alex, what the hell is your iPhone passcode. Tell me! Or do I, perhaps, not want it? You can tell me that, too. And tell me more about all these people I’ve met for the first time, who were such a big part of your life. Did you like him? He checks in on me, I think he assigned himself that role. Is he the right person for the job? Did you think that other guy, I bet you know immediately who I mean, was a creepy freak the way I do, or is there some back story to him, that you could fill me in on? I’ve speculated a lot, and I have my suspicions, could you corroborate?
Oh and most important: are you really dead, or was it an elaborate fake, are you working under deep cover somewhere, and will a black SUV with tinted windows pull up beside me on an evening in early spring a year or two from now, will you jump out and give me an awkward half wave, smile sheepishly, apologize a hundred times for all the pain, hug me and tell me you’re alright, just working and they needed you more than I did, and it was the right time. Because I think that might be a possibility, too.
But if I do ask, and you tell me you’re dead, I’ll believe you.
