Eulogies for an ex.
Because I couldn't write just one.
The timing was ass.
It was him, then us for a millisecond, then it was nothing, then it was me, then it was maybe both of us that night we fought over who would take the air mattress before sleeping on opposite poles of a twin-sized bed, then it was me but less, then it was us for two snowfroze days before I moved back home, then it was him, then me, then him, then me, then us, then nothing, then us again on back porches and living rooms full of whispers, then violent nothing, then me sending a voice note to his email the last time I saw someone far too young in a box, then…a detente, a stalemate, then something ugly and dismissive as I unionized with his exes and we, finally, after 15 years, traded notes. Then he was dead. Then it is me, only me, and it will be me, only me, forever now.