Cait Is Dead; Long Live Cait
Cait died four years ago today, on April 4, 2022. I know that because I remember entering it into my calendar and thinking to myself how odd it was to be scheduling my own execution. I even put a question mark after it, like somehow that would stop the inevitable from happening: "Chemo?" I didn't want to believe her life was over, but I knew Cait was gone the moment I opened my eyes that day. In the four years since, I've mourned myself every single day. I tell other people it gets better, but it doesn't. They need to hear it, so I need to say it. They need me to pretend to be her, so I pretend. But I know she's gone; and I think they know she's gone, too. It's been very difficult for me to describe what I feel like now -- some kind of plaintive spirit wearing Cait's skin like a tattered costume, or a zombie who has been cursed with retaining the memories of its past life. I've thought about changing my name, getting tattoos, having facial mo...
