I can’t assign a single word or emotion to today. I sat here staring at my computer screen for ten minutes typing words and deleting them because they didn’t fit, didn’t encompass it all, didn’t make any damn sense.
First, it’s the nine year anniversary of a friend’s suicide. I’ve written about it every year single year since it’s happened and this year I don’t have any powerful or moving words left. I’ve gone back and forth today between feeling guilty about not having anything to say because if I don’t say something, don’t write some super moving words that will make me cry when I read them back a year from now, then obviously I’m forgetting him, to being so angry at myself about feeling guilty because obviously I love him and remember him and miss him and why the hell would I beat myself just because this year all I want to say is I love you David and I miss you still?
Second, Eric, who I call my brother, and who calls me “little sister” was in an accident last night. We didn’t find out until late and didn’t go to the hospital until this morning because we knew they wouldn’t let us see him. Eric is tattooed and ferocious and will offend you within minutes if you give him the chance and he sure as hell doesn’t go to the hospital. It’s not the first accident he’s been in and just knowing that it was bad enough for him to have to stay overnight at the hospital was excruciating, especially today with the whole anniversary thing.
I was so scared, so terrified that this day, this fucking day from hell, would be made even more painful. Thankfully Eric is okay, or at least mostly okay. He’s banged up BADLY, has some facial fractures and has no idea what the hell happened. He’s family to me and I just don’t know what I would do without him. We have some strange knew-each-other-in-another-life connection that I’ve never experienced before. Our backgrounds, our quirks, they’re so similar and life without him would not be nearly as full.
I wish to hell I had more. I feel like there’s more I want to say, more I want to get out, but I just can’t. I wonder, like I always do, if I’m silly for still marking the anniversary of a death that happened almost a decade ago. My gut says no because it was something that defined me. His death made me. It changed me. It hurt me. And how the hell could I not honor my guardian angel?
So yeah. Today was April 6th.