In truth, I have tried before to write things that I thought people wanted to read. I’ve posted images that I thought would pull people in, entertain them, amuse them, inspire them. I’ve linked and tagged and shouted from the rooftops, “COME READ MY BLOG.” And then I realized, I was writing for other people. Why in the world would I, an independent and creative thinker be doing that? Is it the same reason we are polite and friendly to people we don’t even like? Is it because we feel if we let the truth out there, we will be shunned and alone? We want to build bridges not burn them down. So we all wander around, never really being real with anyone. But maybe, if we’re lucky, there are a few people out there who we can be really real with and not worry that they will walk away, or run. I have a handful, and by handful I literally mean hand-full, of people that I can count on and depend on and open up to without any fears.
Last week, I lost one of those people. She died without warning, without illness or accident. I still don’t even know what happened but the word brain aneurysm has been whispered about and that seems to be the cause until further tests are run and answers are given. She had been my best friend “officially” since the sixth grade, even though we had known each other for years before that, tiptoed around each other and sat in the same circles of duck-duck-goose and operator. But it was in the sixth grade when broken necklaces were shared along with secrets and laughter. She was the one I would call if the boy I liked looked at me in the hallway and she would be thrilled for me…for a look! I don’t have a memory that doesn’t include her and that I didn’t share with her. What happens to all of those memories? The memories that made us laugh hysterically are now drowned in sadness and sorrow of a life cut short.
I am still in a state of shock that seems nowhere near wearing off and I don’t think I want it to. I don’t want to accept something that is so blatantly wrong and horrible. And yes, this post seems like it came out of nowhere…too personal and not cohesive. But isn’t that what life is all about? I think we need to be more personal, less perfect and more honest with ourselves and everyone around us. Maybe someone will read this and feel less alone because they are going through something similar. This life we are all living is one big shared adventure filled with obstacles and triumphs. So, in truth, I am hopeful that good things will happen, that darkness will pass and that we will all meet up again someday.