I shake my head, shrug, wince.
Truthfully, she did that thing we never believe anyone is capable of: she changed. Not overnight, during a year, seemingly unnoticeable. Like days after the summer solstice, her light gradually dwindled.
“Snap out of it,” I’d said. I got impatient. This moping wasn’t her. “Snap out of it.”
Annoyed, I ignored the way she crawled into herself, as if she’d lost her footing. I ignored how she seemed invisible at home. I had work. I was busy. If she couldn’t make the effort, why should I?
So I left her alone.
Sascha Darlington 7/9/2018