You might remember Luke, my best friend. I don’t have it in me to link to his name right now, but you can search using the search bar and read more about him.
Only, as per most people on this blog, his name wasn’t really Luke. His name was Rob. And a few days ago he passed away.
This might make no sense because I’m a mess, but a writer needs to write and I guess people need to know I’m okay, even though I’m not.
Rob and I hadn’t talked in about a year. The last time we did was during one of our running crazy phases. We were toxic for each other. We knew we were toxic for each other. So we finally pulled away. And then we got in a fight, only we didn’t even say anything to each other. He had been lying about me to his girlfriend, so as revenge I told the truth about him. The details aren’t important. At the time I thought that’s what had to happen so we could both live better lives.
Now I’m not sure. Nothing makes sense. This is, literally, my biggest fear. To be the last to know of a loved one’s passing. To not be there with them. To be lost.
It doesn’t matter how mad at each other we were, or how long we had gone since speaking, Rob was the very best friend I ever had. I never stopped loving him, and I never will. He was my soulmate, in non-romantic terms.
I guess I’m writing this to make sense of my thoughts. Several people have reached out to me, and for that I’m grateful, but I don’t want to talk to them. I just want it all to go away.
Mike has tried to get me out of the house, but it hurts even more when I do that. How does everyone just keep living? How does the world keep spinning? How does anything matter anymore? Why don’t people know about this devastation? It wouldn’t make sense for them to know, they didn’t know him. But to me, this is a bigger deal than anything. I feel like the whole world should be weeping. And I’m angry that they’re not. I’m angry that his friends are still posting memes on Facebook like nothing happened. I’m angry that they’re not mourning like I am, and that’s not fair. But I don’t care about being fair right now.
Life isn’t fair. Death isn’t fair. Praying does absolutely nothing, so if I wasn’t a non-believer before I definitely am now. Which also hurts, because that means I’ll never see him again.
I know I couldn’t have saved him. I don’t blame myself for that. But for some reason, I feel like I should have been there with him. I feel like he was alone. And I don’t mean physically, I know people who loved him were there. I mean mentally, or emotionally, or whatever. It was always us against the world. If we went out, we were going to go out together. I feel like we should have gone out together. And I know that makes no sense and I know that my son would suffer, but it’s just how I feel. It should have been both of us.
I want to know how he felt. It’s not my business to put the details of his death on my public blog, but I want to do to myself what happened to him so I know how he felt. If you watch Orange Is The New Black, Crazy Eyes does this after someone was suffocated. She keeps trying to pile heavy things on top of herself so she knows what it feels like to stop breathing in that manner. That’s what I want. I want to experience what he did so I know what it felt like. If it hurt. If he was afraid. If it was peaceful. I can’t shake the feeling that it must have been horrible and that makes me feel worse.
I’m angry. I knew something was wrong the night before. I couldn’t sleep and knew something wasn’t right. And then the next day I saw cryptic RIPs on Facebook and people changing their profile picture to him and I reached out (without bothering his family) and no one would tell me. I had to find out through Facebook. Why would no one tell me? Why did they find out before me? That doesn’t even matter but it hurts.
I feel bad for feeling so sad. I didn’t talk to him for a year, maybe I should be handling this better. I should reach out to his family, I should be strong and allow them to fall apart. But I can’t. Maybe I should stay away. I don’t know.
Nothing feels right. This can’t be real.
He was the one person I should have expected this to happen to, but he was the one person I never expected this to happen to.
And I’ll be honest, because no one ever is when it comes to death, he wasn’t the best person. He’s lied and cheated and put himself first far too many times. But his imperfections made him perfect. And even though I don’t know how to go on living, if I do figure it out, I know that my son, his god-son, will know how amazing he was. How creative and determined and caring and charismatic. How much he loved. He was supposed to do things.
Right now it’s hard for me to get out of bed. Sometimes I can’t breathe and others I can’t speak and sometimes I can’t stop crying. Sometimes I just stare. Sometimes I don’t realize I’m crying. Sometimes I’m mad that I can’t cry. So if you want to know how I’m doing, that’s how. I honestly don’t know if I’m okay. But I have no desire to use, so you can stop worrying about that. In fact, don’t worry about me at all. Mike is here and although he struggles with understanding, he’s doing his best and he’s all I need. If anything. So instead, think about Rob. Keep him alive. Don’t mourn for a day and move on. Let the world know what an amazing soul he was, and never, ever let his light die out.