He Became the Sun

Saw my ex’s friend in the park,

chasing his son.

While the sun radiates, our kids played;

like watching ourselves before our mistakes.

Just for a second,

bittersweet memories crept in;

from the depths of my soul,

I couldn’t help but miss him.

The song on the radio,

to our former shared home;

the time you sang it when we got drunk,

still young, hopeful and deeply in love.

All the plans we made that day,

under the same sun, that still radiates.

The time it shined on us,

at our mid century ranch;

where we made our babies and future plans.

When it warmed our backs,

as we stood at my dad’s grave,

you held my hand and gave me strength;

we left both knowing we’d revisit someday.

When the sun made us too hot,

during our first summer together,

so you held back my hair,

cooled me with water, gave me MJ’s care.

When it kissed our shoulders,

in between drops of rain,

a perfect outdoor wedding;

our love destined to shine.

The way the sun set fire to the sky

at our east-facing house,

the last sunset shared together...

watching it fade, like watching us:

gradually lessening,

the gone all at once.

The house dark and cold,

emptiness filled the space once warm;

the next lights invading from outside.

The last time I’d see his face,

left alone, crying over him,

worrying he wouldn’t be safe.

The next time the light would hit my face,

blinding, high in the sky, already midday.

It moved on so quickly,

and it won’t stop moving,

and it won’t stop reminding:

of everything that could be,

future possibilities,

maybe I’m still too sad to see.

Light so insensitive,

forced to face it everyday,

just like I knew him,

consistent as the sun,

since age 18,

prom, graduations, apartments, houses, births, deaths:

he became the sun to me,

my replacement family,

the reason it was so hard to leave...

How can I not remember,

the man he used to be, or see him in my sleep...

when the moment I wake,

the sun reminds me of my life’s mistake.