Monthly Archives: August 2015
This is the second post I have made since I found out you had yourself a little heart attack.
Thank you for being my friend.
We met in the most unconventional way, and yet you became a real friend, and I will miss talking with you.
I hope your walk on the red road was a good one.
I’ve not been writing, not really reading others, working as usual, actually missing less time now that things have “settled down” and I’m back on a schedule, have no bugs, and no common cold, nor pneumonia.
So how am I doing, nine months after my friend had herself a merry little Strokemas? (Jesus, did I just type that and sing it in my head while doing so? I did.)
I am pretty crippled.
The last nine months have been the hardest nine months of my life. I feel abandoned by practically everyone. I can’t interact with people I have been really close to, without feeling abandoned by them. Isn’t THAT fucked up?
My friends, the people that love me, want to be able to say the magic words. I want someone to say the magic words. I want to know what the fucking magic words are!
The sad truth of the matter is that there is no magic anything anyone can say. I know this. They know this. And yet I am just terrified of losing other people. With some, I can feel the awkwardness of not knowing what to say to me, or how to deal with how I am so different. Yes, I am VERY different.
Melissa, was not my first best friend. I was 24 the first time I met her, She was 18. We became best friends when she married. I bar-tended her reception. We both got pregnant that year. I was 28 when I had my daughter. She was barely 22 when she had her son 6 weeks later. From the last trimester on, we were inseparable. Like I said though, she wasn’t my first BFF ever, but she was my soul mate and the loss of her, has really fucked me up.
I remember sitting by her bed, and realizing what was going on (the bigger picture) as I spent more time with her. I knew I was going to lose her. The bullet had already left the gun. It was then I realized that she was my soul mate. I’ll always remember the look on her face when I just started thinking my thoughts out loud to her. “You know what?” Her eyes got so big. I knew she was asking me “What?” so I continued. ” I’ve always hated the word soul mate. Women use it in a serial manner with men. The word has been cheapened. Serial soul mates. I just realized that all this time, my soul mate has been right here with me.” Her brow furrowed. She closed her eyes and a tear fell out of her left eye, rolling down her cheek towards her ear. I wiped it, told her I loved her…the 11 days melt together. The traumas become fuzzier, but I get flashes of the weirdest things, that just drag me away with them. There remain things, I can not say. Not on the internet, and not with most people. But these things need out. They are eating me up. I can’t keep them and they won’t let go, so I am in desperate need of some help.
I know what I WANT to do, but it is not conventional, nor would my insurance cover, nor sanction it. It is not something I want to do on my own. I would need a guide to get me through what comes up and out.
Not a day goes by that I don’t think of her. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss her. It doesn’t get better. It gets amplified. Sure I feel less RAW, but there is a hole, and there is nothing that fills it.
I can’t hear this and not think of her. I change the lyric appropriately. She was and is my hero, regardless of her faults and flaws. I loved her like no other. She wasn’t ordinary though, not to me.
I started writing, because I kept having a thought over and over and I really just wanted to type it out, so I’ll leave you with what I was craving to say:
I lost my best friend and cried for the rest of my life.