Loss

My friend drank again. By the time she made it to the emergency room, she was doing a fifth of vodka a day, and had done so for a month, not a good thing for a woman who weighs 125 pounds. Then she fell and fractured her coccyx, and injured an arm, a hip and an ankle. When I saw her today she looked a hundred years old, her beauty a husk of what it was a year ago. I am resigned to losing her.loss

I am tired of losing people. There have been more than a half-dozen in the last twelve months. Some have died; others have moved away; others still simply got tired of the relationship we had. It’s entirely possible—no, probable—that I accidentally offended a few. One, after an argument carried out by text message, simply wrote, “We’re done here,” and deleted me from her life after two years of working together on a variety of projects.

I write this even as a contract from a publishing company for two of my novels sits on my desk. I have read it but not signed it yet. I am elated that these books that took almost a decade for me to write, have found a home, but this small success simply does not erase the losses.

Does anything?

 

About epiphanettes

Writer, songcrafter, possibly the best French pedal steel guitarist in Virginia.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s