I am grieving for lost friends.
We were extremely close – even intimate. We spent so much time together, through the good times and the bad. We held each other and, at times of stress, we reached out to each other. We communicated without words: our language was one of touch and feel and vision; knowing when to stay close, and when to give each other space.
Together, we were strong and outwardly confident. We knew the inner truth was different, but we conspired to hide this secret from the world.
And now they’re gone.
I’m grieving for my beloved clothes that are too small for my life as it is now. It feels like another part of me has died. I carry on breathing in and out; I have the technical definition of life, but they don’t. Like conjoined twins, where one exists only because of the other, we’ve been separated. And now they’re mere piles of cloth, lying prone on the floor, a skin shed and left behind.
I hold them in my arms and tell them how sorry I am, that I didn’t mean to end their existence. That I love them and I miss them and I’ll never forget the life we shared.
I remember how they shielded me from all the unspeakable empty times when I was a ghost of a human, but they stepped in to provide a disguise and buffer between me and the questions with no answers.
I stroke them and I apologise for the betrayal. For allowing the body to push them beyond their capabilities. I thank them for trying to carry on being my support when I started to turn my back on them and walk away. I hold them tight and wish we could go back to the way things were before.
To you, the outsider, they are just pieces of cloth. A frankly strange combination of materials that you might put on without a second thought.
But I know their value; they’ve been my disguise, my refuge, my identity. My personality to a certain extent.
I have abandoned them. They’re dead to me and yet they are part of my past that I desperately want back.
They won’t get a funeral or a wake of any sort. They won’t get a memorial.
They will never be forgotten. Never. But their life is over and I’m deeply sad about that.
Goodbye, my friends.