Watching someone disappear slowly is its own terrible grammar. There are moments they look right at me and I can feel the person I know flicker and go dim. People tell me to treasure the time left like I am not already wringing it out with both hands. I am grieving someone who is still here and somehow that makes me lonelier. Every small decline feels like an event nobody else heard. Every small decline feels like an event nobody else heard.
For what is leaving in slow motion