Thirty Days Of Julia: Day Twenty-Eight

Unlike a story, there was no end, no
dramatic climax, no last goodbye, no
death scene, no confrontation, no lessons
learned, no lives transformed, no happy ever
after, no curse, no vow of revenge, no
parting quip, no walk into the sunset.
It was the banality that bothered
me: the way our phones never rang, letters
were not posted, not written, not even
drafted in our heads. The bottles of scotch
not drank, not opened, not even bought. Drugs
not taken. Suicide notes not penned. Lives
not wasted. The angst-ridden words that failed
to become poems of regret. Until now.