Dead People Don't Hear Apologies

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Hi, I saw you the other day at the restaurant. You were waiting in line. I saw how often you tossed your handkerchief from one hand to the other. I'm sorry but I couldn't help but notice how your hands trembled and when the waiter asked what you wanted, your voice was barely above a whisper. I watched you walk around in search of an empty seat at the restaurant. You settled for the area that was less crowded. I want to know who hurt you. I could see the pains in your eyes. I want to know why you chose to be by yourself. Your eyes were bloodshot red and the way they twitched, it was as though they were trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to let loose. I wanted to go over and give you a warm pat on the back, tell you everything is going to be alright, make you smile and even if would have lasted for only a few seconds, I wanted to know what your laughter sounded like, maybe like crackling bits of wood at a bonfire? I'm sorry but blame my cowardice for not doing any of those. I was scared you'd chase me away or stare at me like I fell from the sky. I know I have no excuse for letting go of you like that and believe me when I say I am sorry. Trust me it hurts when I know you can't hear this or read it or whatever. The realization that you're no longer here hits ten times harder whenever I think about it. I am sorry. It's just terrible that dead people can't hear apologies.

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