Missing Person
Someone I knew and liked died last week. His name was Nathan. I’m not writing for sympathy or to prompt the perfunctory “sorry for your loss” comments that grief seems to elicit these days. That human, AI-esque response akin to “have a nice day,” that has become habit, accompanied by the praying hands emoji doesn’t have context here. We were casual friends, both writers with similar backgrounds and interests. I was in his outer circle, a peripheral player with occasional intersection in person and on social media. I’m not even sure what I’m feeling is grief, but there’s a wrenching pit in my gut that twists toward sadness.