Fugue # 60

I can’t think about anything else. Do you think about me like this? I can’t imagine.

I close my eyes, and focus on what I can remember. And I breathe, and I try to see you (my brain, a cd skipping - your eyes and your eyes and your eyes). And I say your name to you: Emily. I say it loud inside my head, and then say hi - hoping you’ll hear me, think of me. And call. Or do something, to let me know you hear me.

A note in study hall, a hand in my hand, a wink, something. Something anything that will take away the uncertainty, remove the doubt, tell me what to do.

Emily.
Hi.
Tell me what to do.

The sound of bare feet in the hall pulls me back home.

- What is it, Paulie?
- Nothing. I can’t sleep.
- Do you want to stay here and listen to music while I study?
- Yeah, is that ok?
- It’s ok. If you’re quiet.
- I promise.

My little brother isn’t so little any more. He crawls into my bed, lays on his back, and looks at me.

- Gene? Is everything ok?

" Yeah," I smile, "Shhhhh...I need to think."