This is a really sad post. Like — a heart crushing — I wish I didn’t have this experience to share — sad. This is me RIGHT NOW:
Look at those dead eyes.
Seriously — awful.
Impossible to get out.
Not wanting to stay in.
The thing, you, reader, have to realize — is that this is probably — if not actually the most vulnerable post I’ll ever share.
I don’t even know how to write this without falling apart every couple minutes — so I feel like I’ve been drafting this for a very long time.
If you read my blog “religiously”, you might remember when I mentioned that a friend of mine — who I needed so desperately to be alive — died on September 3rd, 2019.
I’m a writer. I can’t help it. It’s like air to me, or music. I need it to stay alive.
So, one day, last year, on February 14, 2019, (yes, I know, Valentine’s Day 🙄), I wrote.
I forgot until this week that I wrote what I wrote.
But I found it, going through journals, looking for information about a chapter I’m working on for my book.
Literally and quite tragically for me, I realized I was “into” my friend who died September 3, 2019.
I guess I was feeling sorry for myself last February 14th.
And I had no intention of EVER sharing this with the recipient because how could this extremely good dude be into me at all?!
And, because, in HIS style of writing, I wrote the following, for him, about him.
And now he’s dead.
So he’ll never know.
I can’t ignore
What I’ve done wrong before
When I first read your writing
I couldn’t believe your eyes
Freehand writing is so out of style
Your work challenges me
It is SO organic
It makes be feel lazy
And puts shame to me
I don’t do shit like this because all I get is blame
Although I know what I have to offer
All I feel is insane
I’ve stopped putting this part of myself “out there” because ____________.
But with you maybe I can be comfortable.
I love how much you love food
It’s cute and I want to fuel you
I know that’s a bit creepy so before you call the police
Just know in most ways this is really about me
And I’d do anything for you to know that
Everything is spinning
Because I’m losing my liquid courage
I see your mask
I know what’s underneath it quite well
I see mine too
And they’re both beautiful
– for TCW
I can’t describe what that was like for me, reader, to find this poem that I have no recollection of writing, one I’d written on Valentine’s Day, no less, written 6 months before my friend passed, and found 6 months after.
I cried for days.
Valentine’s Day without my soulmate or the love of my life — that’s bad enough.
But this person’s unexpected death, whose death could have been mine just as much as it was his?
I’m so dehydrated y’all. I am back to the Pedialyte diet.
I’ll never be a writer as brilliant as he was (subjectively if not objectively).
But I had to share my find because this was just fucking crazy.
So, in that spirit, tell the people you want to know how you feel — how you feel. Don’t be a Netflix binge series.
Because he/she might be gone for good tomorrow.
Be good to each other.