I have completed every NaPoWriMo prompt under the hashtag #wtwrites so far. Today was a little different. I could barely read the prompt. I was stuck on the word “elegy”, paired with an illustration of a gravemarker. For those unfamiliar with the term, an elegy is a lamentation for the dead. I wrote this. It is not a true elegy in a structural sense (a traditional elegy mirrors three stages of loss and I am still definitely in the first), but it is an elegy to me.


I am not doing so well. My boyfriend, who was significantly closer to her, is doing worse. This is our first experience sharing grief. To be honest, I think this may be my very first time experiencing grief. Maybe when I have more experiences, I will be able to write a “true” elegy. But I don’t want to be experiencing this now, and I don’t want to ever again.

I am on my third beer and watching Mobile Suit Gundam Unicorn on Hulu. My boyfriend is three hours away, performing comedy at a show where I don’t know if anyone attending has any idea of what he’s holding back while dishing out jokes. I wish he was at home, with me.

I feel like this is very sappy and immature. I don’t care. She was an amazing person. She was a talented poet who never liked to read her work out loud. She liked being off-stage, providing support, art and love. She was a hard worker. She was an amazing photographer who always found the beauty in small things. Last week she took photos of my boyfriend because he needed quality head shots for a gig. Before he left, she gave him her denim jacket to give to me because she thought I’d like it more. I do. I sent her a Facebook message to thank her. She never got to read it. And no one in the world will have the pleasure of meeting her again.

I’d been resisting crying all evening, and now I am again. I’m going to go back to watching Gundam and waiting for my boyfriend to come home.

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