keeping up

I met a friend at an Italian restaurant for dinner. they had disappeared about a year ago with no explanation. a present tense friendship evaporated into silence. worry manifested in numerous failed attempts at reaching out. a chain of unacknowledged messages and unanswered calls. our lack of mutual friends meant I had no way of really knowing what was going on. I thought they might have moved. sometimes I worried something bad had happened, or I had maybe upset them somehow. I missed them and wished I could see them again.

I was caught off guard by their text. seeing them in person and realising that everything had been okay was even more of a shock. we played the game of smiles and pleasant conversation. they avoided eye contact where they could. I couldn’t keep up with the masking and ended up asking why they’d disappeared. they didn’t have an answer and apologised. they’re moving to Amsterdam in two weeks. a course they’ve had their eyes set on for years. they wanted to know about how I’ve been but I struggled to play along. they invited me to get a drink with their friends, who were in a pub across the road. apparently the friends were excited to meet me. I was honest and said I needed to honour how I have been feeling. I cried in front of them and they held my hand over the table. they struggled to look at me and apologised. I seemed to hurt them by failing to hide the hurt that they had caused me. we hugged goodbye outside the pub across the road. I don’t know if I’ll see them again.

my aunty is by my grandmother’s bed at the hospital. she was blunt on the phone, saying it’s best I stay where I am and remember Nonna the way she was when I last saw her. mum cried on the phone. she’s half a world away in the village where Nonna was born. they’ll hold a vigil for her, nieces and nephews and distant relations. comfort for mum in the midst of the storm. I feel a little helpless with nothing to give. words are fickle and mean nothing when it’s time to say goodbye.