I think about the private vulnerable talks with these public goof clowns. Times they confided in me about their emotional weight. With these memories come the guilt that I somehow failed to “save” or “change” them and their outcomes in these quiet moments.
I want them to know how much we still love them. I miss you. We gathered for you and cried hard. Such a big, beautiful group of all your favorite people. So mad and sad and scared for you and us. Was it worth it? We didn’t think so.
We really could have used you back there. So much grief in the world without this too. We would look to you and those like you to help parse through the grief to keep moving forward. You were beacons. Role models. Guiding lights. It really sucks not having you here. Knowing how badly you were privately hurting. Here comes guilt again.
Selfishly I picture myself as the only friend to whom you confessed your pain. I know that’s not the case. I’ll always ask, what if I found the right words in those moments? Where would we all be now? I miss you.
You are still beacons. I remember you and carry your memory with me - more for the love you gave than the exit you made. That was one rough, hurtful mistake in an otherwise beautiful imprint you left on us. You’re still a guiding light. I know now more than ever, I can never make the same mistake. I guess you're kind of like a lighthouse.
Would you have laughed at that? I’m going to find a clip of you laughing now.
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