It’s a good thing I made soup I said to myself as I hovered over the ceramic bowl, cupping it with both hands and letting the warmth radiate up my arms to ease the shivering stemming from my core. Things had been hectic for the last month or so, and time flies when you’re not paying attention. Before I knew it, it had been that long since the last time we had a full conversation. But recently I’d been somewhat plagued by memories of our escapades fluttering through my mind and behind my eyes when I tried to sleep. Often when I’d think of you, or us, as I fell asleep, I’d get an involuntary smile in my mid-haze, and that involuntary reaction to a passing memory would bring me much peace.

When was the last time I saw you? I thought to myself, ruminating over a series of fragmented recent memories. We could never seem to find the time to link up now that we lived on our respective sides of I-95, yet there was a time where nothing so menial would stand in our way. It would have been when you came out my direction and we shared a peace pipe near the park while we watched the water, it began to rain, and we huddled beneath our respective trees as we tried to dodge the drops and finish up.

I smiled to myself again and took a big spoonful of soup, remembering that time we got caught in that sudden heavy downpour several summers ago as we walked home from the park after an erotic outdoor session. Before my chemo, before the pandemic, when life was simpler and predictable. I was dressed in that thing you like, you were dressed in that thing I always liked, and we were completely ill-equipped for the way the sky opened up on us. But it was exhilarating! Luckily, we were already almost home by the time it started. We shed our wet clothes and enveloped ourselves in each other time after time again that day, because you were a sexual dynamo with an unmatched refractory period, and I could never have too much of you. You were my person and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to see you gaze upon me insatiably with those marvelous hazel eyes surrounded by long, dark lashes that I was so jealous of from day one, nearly nine years ago. Perhaps, at a later date, I’ll make one more dedicated confession with that story.

As another loaded spoonful headed towards my lips, desperate for nutrition since I hadn’t properly eaten in days, I was overcome with grief and had to drop the spoon and then down to my knees. I ugly-cried for a while and tried to reason with the Universe, that maybe it wasn’t true. Maybe you had to leave for work and it might be a long time before I’d see you again, but not forever. Maybe one day I’d see your name pop up during a video game as you joined my party to sail through the skies on some fantastical space-faring adventure, like we used to do whenever we were too far apart to see each other. I’m so grateful for the last time you impromptu joined me during my game and we kept jumping our characters up and down at each other. I can feel myself in your shoes, being so excited to see me online IRL/virtually…I’m glad you got to experience that joy one more time, and I feel the same way.

Pulling myself up, I shook my head and chuckled to myself that I had been so preoccupied with all of the other ways in which I had to let you go, that I neglected to realize I would never feel your hands or mouth on me, bringing me to climax in ways that can only happen with best friends and soul mates who have the better part of a decade together under our belts. “Fuck!” I said out loud. Nobody can do it like you, boo. I took a deep breath and sat back down at the table, determined to finish this meal that took me several days of preparation making everything from scratch. Classic homemade chicken soup was one of your favorite meals and I had been thinking about you a lot since I started making it. As fate would have it, I looked back at my phone to pinpoint what I was doing while you were probably making your final preparations on this plane of existence. Turns out, the day you did it was the day I started cooking, but I wouldn’t hear the news until several days later. It’s like the universe knew what I was going to need, just like I needed you right before we met—you needed me, too.

Thank you for choosing me and showing me the love I never knew I deserved. I miss dancing with you, swaying with you, making you laugh, the adorable way you’d bite your lip whenever I’d hint at some erotic fun and your feet would start to wiggle the way a young, excited puppy would wag their tail. I miss your voice, your storytelling, your scent. I’m so honored that I got to give you the best and final third of your life (“dirty thirds” as we would call it, remember?). I did my job. And I never stopped loving you, you were still my best friend…I’m glad that I got to reassure you of that a few more times the last times we spoke. You will always have my heart and a piece of my soul. Rest well, my love, my love. Visit me sometime in a dream or two. Keep an eye out for me, wherever you are. Forgive me for moving on, moving forward. I think it’s what you would want.

“…it’s a good thing I made soup.” I said to myself with a final heavy sigh as I tipped the bowl up to my lips and sucked down the rest of the broth. I was going to need all of the strength I could muster to get through this, when all I really wanted to do was curl into a ball and weep and starve, and visit all of the places we made memories. I promise to honor you in the ways we discussed while you were still here with me. Likely in the Spring, around your birthday. Another cringe enveloped me as I realized I was the last person to make you a birthday cake…

Rest in power with your best friends whom you loved so much and lost. You deserved the best of things and not what was forced upon you. The energy we shared exists forever in the ether of the universe and wherever you are, please find a way to let me know you’re at peace my love. I’ll see you in the Anomaly.

“Ride or die, till the wheels fall off. And even when they do, I’ll walk alongside you.” Love always & forever, your Fox.

🦊❤️✌️♾️