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A Sad Conversation


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A Sad Conversation (fictional)

By AJ Wilson


You: Are you okay?

Me: I don’t know.  I don’t know.  There’s so much I wanted to tell him, but I didn’t.  The chance never came.

You: You can tell me.

Me: It won’t make sense.

You: I’m good at listening.

Me: I found “Girl;” Dr. Rollins put it with “A&P” and “A Clean, Well-lighted Place” in the document; he never forgot to put it up.  I didn’t too so well on my test (only a 79) even though I tried.  I really did try for you.  I wanted your help with my life.  I didn’t get to tell you about what made me so mad earlier.  Who will I ask for help anymore?  Who will let me talk to Nana and keep me away from the others?  Who will understand me?  Why did you leave me?  Why couldn’t you stay a little bit longer?  I wasn’t back on my feet yet.  I love you, Daddy.

You: I’m sorry.

Me: It wasn’t your fault.

You: I’m not just sorry he died.  I’m sorry about your test, I’m sorry you were mad earlier, I’m sorry you don’t have anyone else.

Me: What does it matter?

You: A lot.

Me: Or nothing.

You: But it does matter, it really does.

Me: I lived for him.  There was almost nothing else that kept me going.  Now he’s gone.  I don’t see a point to anything anymore.  Nothing matters.

You: I’m sorry.

Me: It doesn’t matter.

You: Where are you going?  What are you going to go do?

Me: I don’t know.

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