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This time of year makes you think of him.
Soft white falls slowly, not quite covering the city, but enough that you can still see it. It’s not quite Christmas but there are already decorations everywhere you go.
You come out of the club close to 1 AM.
“Strider! Your sets were amazing yet again!”
You give the man a wave of acknowledgement then turn to leave.
You wrote those songs for him, of course they were amazing. He was amazing.
John.
You think of him every day. You walk home along the still awake streets of the city. You’ve moved around a lot, but you still know what he would say if he was with you.
“Dave! That movie looks so fun, lets go see it later!”
“Be careful not to slip on the ice!”
“People never seem to be able to drive properly these days,”
“Your music is always such a big hit, Dave. I’m so jealous!”
And you’d laugh with him, and bump him on the shoulder. Push him around a little when he teases you for slipping, and then you would softly entwine your fingers with his, maybe even share your scarf.
You get to your apartment and hang up your coat, just the way John would have. Oh, and shoes on the mat. Jeez Dave, you always forget!
You walk to your bedroom, admiring the Christmas tree you put up at the end of the hall. It was decorated with blue and silver. It reminded you of his eyes, so blue, but shimmering with joy and life. It made you happy, just like he always did.
You get changed, taking off your shades, and turn out the lights. Climbing into bed. The sheets are soft, as they always are. You turn to face the dresser, where the digital clock illuminates his picture.
You smile as a familiar warmth and longing creep up your chest. He’s as happy has he always is. Good.
And maybe the snow fell a little more softly, and the tree shimmered just a little bit brighter.
You fall asleep thinking of him, a gentle smile on your face.
Goodnight John.