Pencil Drawing of an Eye Reflection

It’s the first time I have cried in months.  It could be the music playing as I gaze at your pictures.  What do I do with you, now that I’m moving.  What of you should I leave behind and what should I box up and carry along this new journey I am about to take.  The memories will forever chase me never allowing full escape.  There will be powerful eruptions like this morning of emotions that lay dormant until a trigger sends them shooting out of its quiescence into full-blown heartache and poignant regretfulness.  

It could be the recent news stories of suicides by celebrities and other notables.  We are stunned say family and friends; she was so happy, quirky, and fun to be with.  

Didn’t anyone notice glimmers of desperation, sense an excruciating pain behind the facade of happiness, or decipher the need to hide?  Depression has sharp edges and so many steer clear of it while others are damaged trying to help.  Every so often you get tired and have to step aside just momentarily, but then he hangs himself.  He doesn’t say goodbye, though I know his whole life has been a journey to that very moment.

I miss you Farzin.  I look into those deep eyes of brown and feel myself about to drown.  I think you would have gotten better, but I know hope had left you a long time ago.  

Eshgheman, time does not heal the pain, it only erodes the sharpness of emptiness.  So I get up,  turn off the music, look away from your eyes, and breathe.