Pretty. sure.

Probably. not.

You’ve seemed to soften a bit over the past few weeks.

Which is good. We’re back to a little Small Talk. chit chat.

Personal anecdotes are acceptable again.

The leaves are falling as the sun hits them on their way down. Shining in their death fall. There is beauty and grace in things dying, in letting go.

The sun will still shine for you. You are still alright.

You are still there, just in a different place. On the ground.

Others join you, nestle around you in the cold.

You are never truly alone. Death is regenerative and feeds a different life cycle.

Maybe our time will come again in a different life form.

Maybe it’s time I say goodbye to my fantasy.

Have fun at the campfire with your girls; throw something on the grill for me.

I will be here, trying to build my own fire without you.

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