to a friend .

It's still not real, Andy.

I'm still praying to a God I'm not totally convinced in that you'll find your way home. That you'll walk in from this longwinded joke; a sideways grin overtop your apology.

I hate how longwinded you've let this joke get.

I hate how the last time I saw you I cut it short to go read a book when I should have gone down to the ocean with you. 

I hate how people use past tense to talk about your smile now. How your embraces were enough to turn a bad day into something magic. How your laugh was the centerpiece in a crowded room. 

Everyday is full of you, but it's an empty-full. You left, and yet, I'm not sure how to rid of you from everything I see and touch and hear. 

You left and we're all trying to live without the sun but it's gotten a little too cold to bear. 

Please come home now.

S.