So we’re speeding toward that time of year to the day that marks that you’re not here

Dear You,

October 2. That is the day. I won’t ever forget that day for the rest of my life because it marks a lot of things – mostly that you’re not here and partly that I have grown up and left my childhood behind. As I’m sure you know (because in my mind, you are always not far away), I have tied you to a lot of things. I have tied you to him, the blue-eyed one, because he was the first thing that made me feel normal and insane and alive after you left. I have tied you to my loss of childhood innocence and wonder. I have tied you to home, completely and totally. I made the decision to go home-home for Christmas on a single factor: I need to see you again. To stand on that gently sloping hill surrounded by nothing but eerie silence and the occasional passing car fills me with a sense of connection – to you, to God, to my past, to everyone in that place with you – and I need that. Although in my mind, you are always not far away, I feel the need to be as physically close to you as I can.

Last year, I spent October 2 alone. Everything around me seemed a little off, a little strange because the world kept going and I held the knowledge that you were not going anymore and hadn’t been for three years. I drove around, spent some time with myself, and allowed my mind to dwell on you as heavily as possible. This year, October 2 falls on a Monday. I have been thinking about you a lot lately, thinking about the impending day, thinking about where I was when it happened and how I found out. Thinking about the new life that came into my world a week later. I will do something for you this weekend, probably something as morbid as visiting a cemetery to take pictures (I found out about a “definitely” haunted cemetery in the area and you know, I have always believed your resting place to be haunted as well – something about a misty apparition roaming the grounds on dark and windy nights) and maybe a movie to take my mind off the situation, at least for a little while.

Do you know how much I miss you? Do you have any idea how much I missed you before? I’m sure the whole world knew about my little high school crush that never went away (it still hasn’t, in a way, and sometimes I want to put my fist through a wall because you are gone forever and it isn’t fair because I will never get to see you again and feel that rush). My only real picture of you was in my backpack that got stolen from my car last year – I carried it in my Bible – and my yearbooks are with my parents. Not that it matters, you scribbled all over your senior picture, jackass.

I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you. I miss that we will never see each other again. I miss that you will never read anything I’ve written. I miss that you will never see the pictures I take. I miss that you will never and I will never and I hate, more than anything else, that your life was taken from you so early. If you are wondering, however, whether or not you achieved any good in the world during your short time on this planet, be assured that you touch dozens upon dozens upon dozens of lives and that each was richer for knowing you, even if for a moment.

See you at Christmas.

Sparkle Pants


Posted on September 27, 2006, in All about Sparkle Pants, Boys are pretty, Bullet In the Brain-Pan, Pretty happy fun friends. Bookmark the permalink. Comments Off on So we’re speeding toward that time of year to the day that marks that you’re not here.

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