LAJ ARTICLES

Yelling At a Dead Person

touch starved

We had a river of love, it’s just flowing from my eyes now.

There are times that I feel you. Sometimes it spooks me. I don’t necessarily understand why it would, but just knowing that you are no longer here makes it weird. As of right now — like literally right now — I have a mirror in front of me. I keep looking in it, hoping to see you in the background. I know you are there. I just can’t see you. I feel you. You are right behind me.

I’m not so scared any longer.

I look for you in dark places because it doesn’t seem that sunlight or illumination is where you want to be right now. It’s okay, come out. We aren’t mad at you… I’m a little upset to be honest.


It is taking everything, literally everything in me to find life to be okay again. I miss just being heartbroken from a breakup. It was so much easier than this. This is horrible, this is hell. I find myself at most moments not finding myself. I’m searching so desperately for the girl I aspired to be. For that strong woman that everyone says that I am. I hate it when they say that I am handling this better than they thought then backhandedly telling me they were afraid that I was going to kill myself. To me, when I look at myself, I see both.

I wear myself out with mornings started too early — due to my insomnia and anxiety, as well as the self-deprivation from the music I listen to constantly. It’s 5 o’clock in the morning right now. I’ve been up since 3. I’m so tired everyday but my body won’t allow me to rest. My mind won’t allow me to rest.

I feel stuck.

My skin is irritated from all the salt that runs down my cheeks. I’m so sad at times, other times I feel self-empowered because I have the knowledge that I am actually dealing with this. I surprise myself. I never thought I would lose you; you asshole! Why couldn’t you just listen to me?! Do you remember being so fucked up beating the shit outta me? Why am I even sad? You treated me horribly in the end and I always excused it because I knew that you had a problem. I always hoped you’d get better! WHY DIDN’T YOU GET BETTER!? WHY THE FUCK DID YOU LEAVE ME HERE??? Why?! Oh wait, I’m talking to a dead person. Perfect. Fuckin perfect.

You did what you did and now I must live with it.


Remember the songs that we used to sing to one another? We made music. We made beats, sometimes it was in the form of our own bodies playing the natural chords that god bestowed us with; our bodies were the instruments. I miss those moments. I miss you making love to me. I miss your body. I miss your long hair. I miss your crooked smile. I miss seeing that one little off tooth you had in the front. I miss your laugh. I miss your voice. I miss the way you used to look at me. I miss the six years that we spent together. I miss the way you would play with my daughter. I miss your stupid beige Dickies, black button up and your DC’s. I miss the way you would brush your hair, always too rough. Pulling it out with every stroke that at times I would do it for you because, god I loved that hair. I loved how it would cascade over me when we would make love. How it retained its smell.

God I love you. I love you so much still.


Remember how I would always tell you how when I grew up that I wanted to be just like you even though I’m a year older? I still do. I have this complex like, WWJD except my quota is WWCD.

I’ve never cried or screamed so much in my life. It hurts. It hurts so much. I honestly don’t know what the fuck I am doing. I felt a little better about my direction in life when you were at my side. I thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together.

Do you remember asking me if I would love you when you grew old and looked like Mr. Miyagi? I was planning on it. I could already see you walking down our neighborhood streets with your two hands clasped behind your back, walking half-slouched. And even if you didn’t want to, I would have made you go just so I could live up to my fantasy. I adored you babe. You were the smartest person I had ever met. You helped put the first Mars Rover on Mars. You helped put the second one. NASA lost a genius. You were brilliant. You made your notch though, that’s for damn sure. NASA memorials, who gets that? You did babe, because you were different — talented and special. Fuckin Einstein. But you could never beat me at monopoly. Okay maybe once….

We had great times didn’t we? I traveled half-way across the world to meet you in Argentina. That was an amazing experience; just so we could see the eclipse with one another. Remember when we drove out, it was freezing, and we just wanted a beer to make the experience just that much more special. A ceremonious moment is what we were looking for so here goes my ass running through a small shanty town in the middle of Lobos, Argentina in search for just one can, just one. You jerk. Laughing behind me, recording my backpack swaying side to side as I ran to a little store front. I wish I had that recording still. Nature waits for no one. Not even us.

Remember San Francisco? Truckee, Placer Lake, Donner, Castaic. Remember our fishing. Our engraved tackle box. My Trout pole and your Bass? I hope you do, because when I meet you again someday, I want to relive it again, at least just once.


I’m finding it a little more enjoyable watching old videos of you. It’s hard, yes. But I need to. I need to see you somehow. I can’t touch you anymore. You are now in a vase over a mantle. Wow, I just wrote that. You are now in a vase over a mantle. I’m so tired. I never thought that I would be chugging down a beer at now, what 6:00 a.m., and writing a manifesto of pain.

I have always wanted to be a writer. I don’t want to write about this.

One of our last conversations and last things that you said to me was that you just wanted me to be happy. I hung up. I knew you were telling me to find happiness without you. I didn’t want that. I was in such denial of our intimate hearts separating that it made me angry. I’m sorry about telling you about. I’m so sorry for breaking your heart; it was not my intention. I was just trying to separate myself from a toxic relationship. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but if I did, I am so very sorry. I hope, by some cosmological strength, you could help me along the way to heal.

I wish you were still alive

*orginally published on Substance.media; The following sentence for the Los Angeles Journal

“Death does not mean the ‘END’ for an party.” said Megan

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