One of the final nights
Written on scrap paper by candlelight
The sign
Middle of the night, 4/6/26, 1:45am
You woke up and threw up.
The third time in three days.
The sign.
You came back into the room.
You laid on the floor by the bed,
uncomfortable.
I did what made sense to me.
I made a bed on the floor next to you.
I am here to comfort you now,
after all the comfort you’ve brought.
The sign.
Our bodies aren’t fitting together
the way they always perfectly do.
Neither of us able to get comfortable enough to make the pieces match.
So I lay on my back and the tears flow.
And with some choppy breaths,
I feel waves of exhales - deep painful acceptance.
But for once, acceptance.
I even a hunger in my belly,
matching yours.
My brain is going through the logistics -
when,
based on my schedule,
so you don’t suffer,
so Sebi can say goodbye,
so I can face life.
But the heartache and the body sensations
are stronger than the brain.
reminding me to not overplan,
to not go to that default,
that right now,
let yourselfself be in it fully.
Palo santo, a candle, 2:45am
Wet willies in my ear from crying on my back.
This I know:
You deserve dignity, comfort,
peace, and love.
You don’t need to hold on anymore.
I look at your half-open eyes,
not able to go deep into sleep.
The sign.
I’ve been asking you to tell me,
to be crystal clear,
because we’ve always had that connection.
You’ve told me when to not.
You’re not doing that now.
And also, you don’t owe it to me
to tell me.
You love us.
You don’t want to go.
But you’re tired.
And it’s time.
The sign is an overall feeling of knowing.
If there was a “real sign,”
I would have waited too long.
As someone who has battled sleep issues for the last year,
I sit at peace with you
in the middle of the night,
right now.
What an honor to be up with you,
and to meet you where you are
on the floor
and give back
like you’ve given.
Here we are three weeks after my surgery.
My official recovery clearance for my vocal chords (so now I can cry like this).
Your swan song.
All this time together.
You and the Universe planned this didn’t you?
Is that the sign?
It hurts so much
that even though there have been other lifetimes (my Cheetah),
and there will be others
it hurts so damn much.
An unparalleled love.
This was how it was supposed to end.
And now I learn to comfort myself again - with a piece of you in each cell
telling me how.
We rest - 4:00am
Next to you on the floor - 6:00am
Searching for meaning within the multiverse,
with something so big and tender.
I want to see how it aligns
with the vastness of it all. As if choosing a day allows me to wrap my head around it all:
At the end of the day, we will create the sacredness with our closeness.
He’s letting me see his pain now,
The sign.
So I meet him with love
rather than fear.
“I’m walking you home.”