at the bookstore

I never realized how much my life was centered around Sarah. At the book store this morning, I kept thinking, “I wonder if Sarah would like that,” and “This looks like something Sarah would be interested in.” And I found myself drawn to the photography section and the anime section . . . things I don’t necessarily care about that much but things I always look at because I might find something Sarah would want. Of course that’s pointless now because Sarah is gone. I can’t stop doing it though. Everything I look at, think about, read, watch, etc., I always examine for things to talk to Sarah about. She and I had some similar interests and some different ones. She always had interesting things to say about anything I could come up with as a topic. I don’t think I’ll ever find anyone to talk to who could be as interesting as Sarah was, even when we weren’t talking about anything in particular, even when she was talking about random teen-ager stuff. I could never get off the phone with her in less than half an hour. And now, I feel lucky… so very lucky to have had that time with her. It was never enough. It could never have been enough if we had both lived to be 150.

The last time I talked to her we talked about Lego and Star Trek and boys and spring break and friends and high school and movies and I don’t remember what all. I wish I could remember. I wish there was some way that conversation could have been recorded so I could play it back over and over and over again. I haven’t canceled her cell phone because I just keep calling her number to listen to her voice mail. I miss the sound of her voice so much.

I dreamed last night that Sarah came back and she was miffed because someone had given all her stuff away. I’ve had several dreams now where Sarah came back, mostly just to tell me that she was OK and not to worry. In my dreams, she’s always smiling. That’s all I have left now.