In my life you're not a footnote

After a weekend of metal and delicious coffee I dreaded the drive home. It wasn't more than a few months after you had passed. The entire ride I scanned the road for some marker that you had been there perhaps an empty soda can or something else that had by some strange grace touched your hands and made its way into world. As we came closer to a place I assumed you must have left from my world became filtered by saline. I could find no mark on the road, nor great upheaval of earth, nor rosary mile marker where a man such as you had passed I expected a chasm to echo what was in my heart. Instead I was only left with the memory of your beautiful laugh slowly fading in my ears. I gripped the wheel tightly and spun out a playlist of standup to blush by and tried my best to match my laughter to that which I missed most.