Stars

The night your heart stopped as I listened to the monitor dive into a steady straight noise from it's slow usual pace, the stars outside the window slipped behind the clouds and all in the sky went dark. No light shone the rest of the night as I left though the hospital doors one last time. I thanked god for the pitch pigment that blanketing the city. In the darkness there was no reason to hide, I was already unseen. Unraveling my thread tied to your heart like a knit sweater snagged on a fence. I let it tighten and snap as I entered the quiet solidarity of my car.
I was too numb then to feel anything past shock. Even after knowing for months that you'd leave I still found myself believing I'd be back tomorrow to find your peaceful sleeping face amidst machines and quiet evenings. 
I spent most of my visits reading to you. Offing you quite possibly the only way I had found to run away from the situation thinking maybe you'd like some relief too. That night I never went home. I drove to the notch in the mountains where if you park just right you can watch the sun rise above their monstrous peaks and kiss every living surface between it and you. I must have waited five hours just sitting there, waiting. 
And as the sun peaked above the points shining brightly into my eyes I held my breath. As I exhaled the tears rolled down my cheeks. Fat with rage and full of sorrow they dropped down into the dirt and onto my shirt. Every night sense then I look up into the sky and wonder if I will ever find an extra star up there twinkling with the same beating heart as yours.


Chantell,
 xoxo