the operation

Hey, you're not here and I'm sitting at my cubicle watching the clock, but you don't know about 9-to-5s. I don't know why I even think of you. It's been a while, and there wasn't much to think of to begin with. 

Hey, you're not here, and I'm at the tequila bar on 6th street doing shots. I haven't made it home before three this whole week. I'll probably end tonight hunched over a toilet expelling half-digested tortilla chips and guacamole. If you were still here, I'd probably be throwing up anyways. 

Hey, you're not here and I'm in my cubicle again, and thinking of when you were. You weren't in the city for a long time, but you got to see Brooklyn. We left work early, and took the Q from Union Square and got off at DeKalb. Subways make me sick. I'm sensitive to motion. I wonder if you were too. I wonder how much like me you would have been. 

Did you know when we walked into the clinic? What were you thinking? Did you hate me? All this time–did you hate me more than you loved me? Did you have enough time to form those emotions? 

"It's done," the doctor said, and I thought, hey, then stopped. He held a Petri dish out to me. "Do you want to take a look?"

Hey–

I swallowed, shook my head, look away. I heard the plastic clatter into one of his many wastebaskets. 

It's done. 

Hey–

It's done. 

Hey–

You can't hate me anymore. I made sure of that. But I'll do it for you. 

I can't fall asleep anymore. I'm scared if I close my eyes, I'll never wake up. That itself would be okay. I'm scared because I'll have to face you if I die. When I die, I mean. Because we're all gonna die. And I can't face you. 

Hey, you're not here, and it was my choice. Hey, you're not here, and you can't come back. 

Hey, you're not here and I said I wouldn't care, but I'm sitting at my cubicle watching the clock and thinking of you even though there's nothing to think about. You weren't anything. You had no time. I gave you no time–no, not quite. I took away all your time except a few short weeks. 

 Hey, you're not here and it's my fault.

 Hey, you're not here, and I wish you were.