About A:

Do you know the feeling where you see someone, and your stomach suddenly collapses? You literally can't breathe, all you can do is think; and you are trying to figure out how carefully these decisions were made and then the emptiness starts to wind up your stomach and into the base of your throat and it coils around your neck like the carefully tied noose from your execution.
Its how I feel, right now. 
And my thoughts are going to the pond by the blue silos and the fish that I killed. I remember you wouldn't tell me that I killed it; you just let it swim away to die. My thoughts are going to the place on your wrist right where it bends. There is an ink mark there, from your favorite blue pen. Its the same one that you used to write with on the back of my car, because you thought it would be funny. My dad is still upset about it. That was 162 days ago. And my thoughts are going to the scar on the side of your face. Its on the left, almost in your hairline so not many people know it's there. And they're going to the day when you left. 
Now I can't go anywhere beautiful without tasting you there and I've finally figured out why storms are named after people. 

XX
Rothko