Today marks the 9th year since one of my dearest friends passed... I remember the day I received the call telling me he was gone. My first reaction was denial, "You're kidding, right. He's standing there- that's not funny, it's not fucking funny" that rapidly shifted into knowing it was real. It was as though the life had been kicked out of me; I couldn't breathe. In a numb haze I somehow found myself flying back to PA from Hawaii. Everything that happened after was a whirlwind of foggy, yet painfully and explicitly clear, memory. Part of me was still in denial up until the viewing. From that moment on, I felt as though I had been left to wander the face of the earth alone.
He was the first one to see through the darkness that encompassed me at the time. He was never afraid of my life, and sat with me through some of my most desperate and helplessly lost moments. Inexplicably, he would frequently make contact in some way when I was in the midst of one of my meltdowns, even when we were 6000 miles apart he was somehow still present with me. I always thought the idea of soul mates was a crock of shit... until I met him.
My last adventure to Kenya reminded me that, in spite of how much I miss him, I am incredibly grateful for the lessons I've learned through his complete love and acceptance while he was here, and for teaching me how to live through his death. He is why I've learned that the people and relationships in my life are what matter the most. At the end of it all, I will want to know that those I loved knew just how much I loved them- that I endeavored my utmost to be the best version of myself for not just my benefit, but for theirs. He is why I am teaching myself to make decisions out of love and not fear- to live boldly, openly, passionately, and honestly.
Though, that all said, there's always an underlying bittersweet melancholy I have in every place I go because I know they are experiences he would have loved.
It has taken me years to find the so-called silver lining of such a devastating blow, but I finally resolved that the best way for me to honor those I've lost is to LIVE. My part of the story must go on.
"There's no second I've lived that you can't call your own."
-House of Leaves
