After work I checked my voicemails for the first time in a week. This kind of procrastination is not unusal for me. When you don't talk with anyone for weeks on end or get many phone calls there's not much need to check messages on a regular basis. After a while it tastes like desperation. A ritual to make other people reach out when they have no reason to bother.
So I checked my voicemail and there was a male voice on a message timestamped as Wednesday afternoon.
"Deidre's dead."
That's it. Nothing more. I played the message back twice and it still said the same thing punctuated by the same angry slam at the end. *69 only returned my parents's home number since they were the most recent call. My heart dropped and I couldn't cry. She lost her job a few months ago, buried under lots of debt and possible bankruptcy, losing her memory from sleep apnea along with her multiple medications. Maybe it's best for her, getting a clean slate if reincarnation does exist. Maybe he's fucking with me but that would imply being worth someone's attention.
This feels like a cliche considering the last time I spoke with her I was furious at her hiding a fiance and not being straight with me. Four months later and I get this.
You know, it's one thing for a person to be dead to you but it's another to wonder if they really are dead. Knowing her situation, I'll never really know for sure.
good bye. i loved you in my own obsessive and desperate way.