18 December 2011 @ 01:52 am
I know it's been a while  
I've been keeping up Don't Eat the Paste and sucked into Facebook. But eljay was the place I put my feelings for years when they were involved.


Kim died.

It seems like everyone should know that already. Because the world is this completely different place. At least my world is completely different.

There's this Kim-sized hole in my world, there is her phone number on all my phones, it's even written on my wall. There are memories and reminders of her everywhere. How not? 17 years we've been best friends, we've shared so much in that time. The world itself reminds me of her, even the new things remind me of her, because who else is there to tell?

There was always Kim. Through hell and heaven and just life, she was there. So lovable and loving. Naive and ambitious, dreaming and coldly practical. There was Kim always. We talked about what it would be like growing old together. Neither of us had any doubt that's how it would be. But it isn't how it is.

I'm functioning, even smiling sometimes or laughing, but then someone asks me how I'm doing and I'm crying again. Because I can't say I'm fine. My best friend is dead. And I'm not fine. But I can only handle it in bits and pieces. It's too huge.

She had an aneurysm. Just dropped and looked like she was seizing. She was at school, and the school had a nursing program so they were able to get her to the hospital sofast. Fast enough that they could put her on life support.

I went to see her that evening, my friend who had this huge personality, who went full tilt at every idea she had, who traveled the world and learned so much was so tiny in that bed. How did she get so small? I mean, I knew she was a little shy of 5 feet tall, but she always seemed so much bigger. Her hand was soft in mine, and bruised already from the needles.

I didn't cry while I was in her room, not much anyway. I cried when I got out of the room, I cried for the next 2 weeks, but that first night I didn't cry. I kept it under control until her husband called me to come down, he was taking her off life support.

I got there, and he hugged me and left, and I sobbed. For hours. I told her how much I loved her, how thankful I was she was in my life, what an absolute honor and blessing it's been just knowing her, being loved by her, being able to love her, being trusted and trusting. I thanked her for as much as I could think of.

Then it looked possible for a day she might pull out. But it wasn't.

There was so much more to that time. How my children, who've known her, in my daughter's case, her whole life reacted. How angry my husband was and is that so many horrible people live long, fruitful lives and this wonderful woman was laid low. Me, asking over and over again, how could her brain kill her when her heart never would. Because her heart.. I lived there. It was a wonderful place.

Her last day, I went to her room, and read to her for hours. I cried it out before I got there, so at the last,I could just be there for her. I read her poetry and a bit of Wicked, which she always wanted to read. I told her again, that I loved her.

At about 1 am, on 11/11/11, with a full moon in the sky (she always knew) she left.

I'm not all right. Faking it online is easy if your just following my status updates, but really, it's not okay.

There is this brief moment in your life when you really think "Friends forever" and believe in it. I know how lucky I was. My BFF was, is and will always be. I've had people in my life who really loved me, made me a priority and were proud of me. Many people don't have that. I had Kim, and she had me. She was so protective and downright feisty about that. I was her best friend, and she made sure I knew it. She was/is mine.

I miss her. Every day when I realize I'll never hear her voice again, hug her again, she'll never see something I made and decide to take it home with her. And I can still feel her in my head, we've talked so much, that I can hear her in my thoughts, but I'm greedy and selfish and full of pain and want my friend in a substantial way.