The day was dull. Grey clouds covered the sky, perhaps to warn of rain, perhaps to mourn like the rest of us. I remember thinking that the weather reflected how I felt at that moment, its lack of emotion a testament to my own numbness, like what was outside of me was balanced with the inside in a nihilistic harmony. Normally I would have worried about the rain, spending most of my time outside playing football; but we wouldn’t be playing football anytime soon – it just wouldn’t be the same.

There weren’t many of us there, five in all, including the priest. Three of us came from the team, the last person being Luke’s dad. He didn’t seem concerned about the lacklustre presence at his son’s funeral, and he thanked us for coming. He was quiet most of the time, and none of us felt the courage to come up to him and talk. What would we say? So we stuck to ourselves and so did he, connected only by our mourning.

The service was short and sweet. Luke’s dad wasn’t fond of priests, it was more for the memory of his mother. The picture they used was an old one, from before Luke had broken his nose. “He got his nose done up for the occasion,” joked Stevie, and for the first time I felt myself about to cry. We fed him to the ground, saying our final goodbyes, most of us having parted with him already, returning for one more painful rendezvous, and Luke’s dad, who would never really say goodbye, who never really could, standing there all the same.

We stood around the grave until Stevie and Rob decided it was time to leave. I told them I would stay a while longer, and they left me alone with Luke’s dad. My hope was that I would feel something more, to show Luke how much he meant to me, that I cared much more than my dry eyes and clear throat led to believe, that I missed him more than anything in the world – that I cared about him and always had – but nothing would come.

The silence was finally pierced by Luke’s father.

“He was such a fool,” he said, much to my surprise. “Life’s cruel, we all know life’s cruel. What made him think he could run away from it? Life’s just as cruel as it was before, but now one of the only things that were good about it are gone.”

There was a moment of silence. “What am I meant to do without my boy?” he concluded, walking away a few seconds later, leaving Luke and me alone.

I looked his picture in the eyes, like there was something I wanted to say to him, but no words came to mind. “I’m sorry,” I finally admitted, but it felt so meaningless now. I waited a while longer, like there would be something I could say that would change anything, until finally I accepted the silence and left Luke to rest in peace.

1.VIII.2020