it’s murder by numbers

Most people would write something on the first day of the new year. Not me though, for reasons that my heart just wasn’t in it.

I was watching TV on January 1 when I received a message on my mobile. My good friend, Anabel Bosch, had collapsed and was undergoing emergency tests in the hospital. To say that I was speechless is an understatement; my girlfriend would later on say that all the color had drained from me. Anabel was like a sister to me.

She had suffered from an aneurysm that eventually led to massive brain hemorrhage.

Saying goodbye to her on the eve of January 9 was one of the hardest things to do, even if she fought all the way to the early morning of the 11th. No longer would I hear her amazing voice driven by raw emotion, or taste her amazing chili.

Sunday the 25th would have been her 33rd birthday. No rants from me for this post.

Give me.
Words with a need all their own.
The gentlest of entreaties
the most selfish of pleas

Give me,
Another chance to fight the world
with our ideas.

Give me,
One more glimpse of your smile
Now forever only on paper
and memory

Give me,
This moment of thanks
For setting the measure
Of how life can be lived.

Goodbye dear friend. Our loss… your peace.

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