Rest.

I don't know the exact time of your death. In my mind, it was no earlier than the phone call, but then I run back through and it was during my favorite TV show; it was while I was talking about calling you and deciding to put if off for later; it was while I was walking down the street, perfectly content, and you were you absolutely alone.

It's happened so many different times in so many different ways that I sometimes wonder if it's even real. But then your name isn't on my caller ID and your face is nowhere in this sea of people, and I know it is.