I was sitting at your funeral, watching the blades of grass bend in the breeze. A million perfectly uniform little fingers, twinkling and oscillating. I couldn't bear to look at the faces. I couldn't bear to look at the scene. The pallbearers, the flowers, the coffin. They buried you on my birthday. You upstaged my birthday yet again. Everyone should've been wishing me a happy birthday and instead they were offering me condolences. For you. You, finally wearing that suit you'd never wear anywhere for me.
"Such a beautiful service..." "You and your son will be well taken care of..." "I can't believe he's gone..." "If you need anything just call..." the words leap frogged over my ears and were forgotten. The crowd melted away, their duty done, to leave me to embrace the misery. To leave me to pick up the shattered pieces of my life. You might've been useless but no one ever loved me like you did. And now I'm all alone.