I noticed that people have been leaving you messages on your Facebook wall as though you’re in a position to go and read them and, while I find that rather strange and a little off putting, maybe they have the right idea. Maybe there’s something cathartic about leaving you messages in the off chance that you have Internet access and feel like checking on your Facebook.
I got a message from your partner yesterday. He said “I’m torn to pieces” and it just struck me how powerful that was coming from someone with such a titanic personality…that he could be compressed to the size of a piece of paper and then shredded down to quiet simple sentences. He told me some very nice things you said about me and it made me get all choked up at work and I had to go sit in the bathroom for a little bit so I wouldn’t start sobbing. It’s strange how many times I’ve had to go sit in the bathroom either at home or at work over the course of the past few days to either cry or collect myself so I don’t start crying. I think that this past weekend has been my transition from someone who doesn’t cry to being someone who cries. I don’t think I’ve gotten it all out yet as it seems to always get a little stifled in myself chest but, I’m new at this so you’ll have to cut me some slack.
I was talking about you yesterday and I came to the realization that I can probably count on one hand how many good people I know. That is not to say that I know tons of evil people, but when I say good I mean people who are almost forcefully good. People who are supportive with no occasional sarcastic bite and bark of people’s defense mechanisms. Not mostly good with a few brambles along the way. You’re a rare one. I still don’t know how you are always able to say at least one positive thing in any situation. You have always had this horrible habit of pointing out silver linings when I am very much content focusing on storm clouds. You can be encouraging to a fault and while I typically respond with a meh and a grumble, your words always hit their mark and I am always grateful and appreciative of that.
I think I’m having a great problem trying to explain to myself why I suddenly feel this gaping sense of loss in my life. I mean, that’s a stupid thing for me to say given the circumstances, but normally I accept life and loss and can generally move on without getting myself too caught up in the emotional webbing. I’ve told myself that I only ever get to see you the once or twice a year when you come to the city to visit and I really shouldn’t feel any differently than normal because my day to day routine hasn’t been effected….but this absence doesn’t feel like you’ve skipped a trip this year or that you’re on some extended European vacation. I feel the subtraction weighing very heavily in the back of my mind, like when you lose a tooth and you end up constantly running your tongue over and over again in the place where there was once a tooth, as if you’re not quite sure you’re fully grasping that there is now nothing where there always has been something.
You going away has been a tectonic shift in my personal geography. I feel like this has changed me. Opened a canyon. Pushed up a mountain chain Changed a rivers course. Nothing negative, but a change none the less. And change is a little scary.
I guess this is the point where I have to start talking about you in the past tense because you’re no longer the you that I knew and was acquainted with. But I take comfort in knowing that everything that was in you, that made you you….everything that was awesome and good and every atom that made you the amazing human that you were, is still here and always will be….and in a way I think that’s even better than envisioning you flitting around with angels.
So this is where I end it, I guess.
This message is my official farewell to you. It’s my message in a bottle that I’m dropping into the sea of the internet because I needed to do a little something for my own benefit to clear the air and because I think that goodbyes are just as important as hellos.
This morning while I was riding the subway into work I got all upset because I realized that you and I never went and got those after-work margaritas that we talked about constantly and then I felt silly over how I seemed to be over-reacting to every little thing recently. Times Square is not the place to be getting upset over missed margaritas.
This whole situation feels weird and hurts and I wish it was more like the pain of slamming one’s finger in the door that was explosive and over quickly as opposed to the slow, heavy sadness that will most likely take some time to end. But you know what? I’m okay with that, because I feel very,very fortunate to have enjoyed your friendship so much that it makes saying goodbye this difficult.
Goodbye. Thank you.
so it goes.