Morgan, we cocooned you in love for 20years – was it enough? Did we manage to cram a life’s worth into that short allotment?
I feel cheated and pretty pissed off that we were robbed of the joy of your presence for the rest of our lives. It is selfish I know, we wanted you here with us until we up and died; but fate turned the tables on that scenario. How can it be?
The vestiges of you that we rejoice in are getting fainter. I go into your room to conjure you up and try to sniff your scent from t-shirts. Even your closet is loosing the essence of Morgan and smells disappointing, flat, sort of generic now. I guess empty is the right word.
The tangible Morgan dissipates and yet the connection persists. Selfishly, I am not content with a monologue. Morgan give us something, anything, to break through the barrier. We are all wishing for something, a big sign from you. Morgan, how about putting the 2 4 1 dots on the moon for a night? Just once!
2 4 1