I always wondered why you never called me.

Your last day was a spiderweb of connections.

Yet, you forgot to bring your thread back to me.

I’ve wondered, wide awake, staring at the ceiling, why didn’t you have anything to say?

Were you angry? Was I one of the entity’s you were upset with? Wether it be god or satan, maybe your situation? Had I done something that has went unforgiven?

Or did you think nothing could be said? That maybe we already had our moments.

Maybe leaving quietly was comforting.

And not giving me a last conversation made everything endless.

I’ll always ask myself these questions. In the darkness of my room, trying to make sense of your strange motives.