Julia Kovach

Be Still, My Heart

“Dear Julia . . . there is no easy way to tell you this . . .”

On July 3rd, I learn of my friend’s suicide

The savage truth delivers a violent punch to my heart
and fractures my core

For others, the days ahead bring fireworks, art fairs, and festivities . . . even The Rolling Stones

but I’m here still trying to get up off the floor

Reality comes in waves now; acid waves which leave me breathless

I can’t talk about it yet, or say his name aloud, or share his wonderfulness with you
but I know that soon the grieving will begin and it will be better than this

In a single moment everything can change
your perspective . . . your world . . . even the person you are

To the muffled backdrop of exploding fireworks, I weep
for his pain
and my loss
and the tremendous tragedy of it all

It didn’t have to be

This life . . .
is magnificent and beautiful
yet fragile, tentative, and temporary
and ever so bittersweet.