it's strange how he died five days ago, and already i'm expected to be done talking about him, thinking about him, crying about him. it would be easier to keep it to myself if everything in the world didn't remind me of him, everything, everything, every ridiculous little thing.
who is going to finish my ice cream cones now? who is going to try every ridiculous recipe that pops into my head without complaining, with lots of teasing? who is going to shake me when i'm on the verge of tears, who is going to invent mixes for me, who is going to leer at me from behind a door or a gravestone in the middle of the night? who is gonna yell at me to shower, knowing perfectly well that i only went six days without a shower once and for very good reasons? who is gonna watch the latest animated feature with me against his will, and then deny that he enjoyed it when he totally did? who is going to gag whenever shakespeare comes up in conversation, who is going to let me win at thumb war, who is going to muss my hair whenever it gets too neat? who is going to go to the pier with me on a windy day to watch the birds fly backwards?
it's strange to think that i knew a jake that no one else knows, and that by extension, i am the only one who can miss that jake, as well as every other jake besides.
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