She’s Not Even Dead Yet

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“She isn’t even dead yet and already I think I understand what grieving feels like.”

Julia Snrubs

She isn’t even dead yet and already

I’m crying in my bed late at night

I’m breaking down in the middle of meeting

Because a song caught me off guard

It reminded me of her

I hugged a sister in the bathroom

I choke out a laugh that sounds more like a sob

Because she isn’t even dead yet

She isn’t even dead yet and already 

I think I understand what grieving feels like 

I understand the stereotypes in all the movies

I’ve memorized the five stages, I’ve hit at least three

I don’t have time to unpack all this

But also, what else is there to do? 

How do you grieve someone 

Who isn’t even dead yet 

She isn’t even dead yet and I know I should be grateful

For every text I see she sends, for every breath she breathes

For every new update that says she’s doing fine

I know I should visit her at least one last time I know I should make the most 

Of the time that I have left

But I can’t stand to bear the thought 

Of saying a real goodbye 

Because once it’s over, then what? Pretend she doesn’t exist?

What’s the point of saying goodbye 

If she isn’t even dead yet 

And if I text her, what do I say 

If I visit, what do I do? 

The most we can do is be there 

At least that’s what they say 

But I don’t want to watch my friend 

Die and waste away 

I don’t want to leave her alone in her room 

Pumped up with whatever they give her 

Until her appetite leaves 

I don’t want to see her defeated body 

I don’t want to see her brave smile 

I don’t want my sadness and red eyes and tears 

To remind her she’s dying and leaving us sad 

I don’t want to tell a dying woman 

To be positive, or that I’ll see her soon 

I don’t want her to think that I don’t care 

I don’t want her to think about how much her being gone will hurt all of us

I don’t want her to think about our lives once she’s gone

How we’ll snivel and hold each other

And break down at the hall 

How we’ll cry at her funeral 

And try not to be ashamed of our tears 

How we’ll get through it together 

How there’ll be another year 

How eventually we’ll move on 

And be struck less and less 

How our memories will fade 

Until there’s nothing but the good left 

How she’ll become a saint of sorts 

A long list of people we’ll see again 

All of this imagined future 

And she isn’t even dead yet 

No amount of future hope can stop the pain of now

One day closer to seeing her again

Is another day closer to watching her die

If the window is so short, why say goodbye?

Will not a “see you soon” suffice? 

But it’s more than that, and my body knows

Grief is not something you can speedrun 

And can you even call it grief? I didn’t know her At least, not as well as most 

I could get to know her now

But why befriend a ghost? 

Why load the gun with silver bullets 

And aim it at my head? 

There’s no telling when the trigger pulls 

There’s no telling ‘til she’s dead 

The thought of her is synonymous with pain and grief

And that isn’t at all fair 

She’s so much more than everything 

That I can’t even bear 

And so I lay 

Here in bed 

Knowing I should sleep 

Processing loss 

Dealing with grief 

Projecting future memories 

Saying goodbye 

Touching her hand 

All this 

And she isn’t even dead yet 

Oh God, how much worse is this gonna get

When she isn’t even dead yet


Author’s Statement: This piece was written about my friend who just entered hospice after battling breast cancer for the past year.

Julia Snrubs

Julia Snrubs is an autistic author in San Diego. Her notable works include “Rialta” (a fantasy romance novel) and several unpublished poems and short stories

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