Things will be even weirder when I see you at that next party, whether it is tomorrow, next week, or next month. We will give each other a nod from across the room, maybe a little smile, and go about our business. I am not going to let you hold me because I do not need one more stranger who knows every crevice of my body. Or who thinks they know a thing or two about me.
After you died I opened every window of the Advent calendar you insisted we savor day by day, just like your Nana taught you, and ate every single chocolate under each flap in one go. It was the best way I could think to tell you to screw yourself for leaving me here alone.