Father George says that when we die, the place that we had in God's mosaic becomes an empty space, never to be filled again; and now I know this is true.
You were my best friend for a number of years, and I thank you for calling me and making amends with me. It was so kind to ensure that I could be at peace in your death, so I could know that we were okay, and that there was still love between us.
I dropped by your parents' house this afternoon, and no one was there. I noticed fresh footprints leading to the backyard, so I went to the backdoor to leave the package that I brought. I looked around, I saw the sheds, the BBQ, the lot where you buried your dog, the window to the basement where your room was. It felt that I was just there with you yesterday, but you moved into first the apartment that you had, and then after that your condo. Really, we hadn't been in that backyard for over five years, I guess it was. I never said anything, but maybe you've known since we've been friends for the seventeen out of our thirty-four years, that I felt a relief when I was around you which I didn't have with other people, and your simplicity and straight-forwardness always amazed me.
Being in your backyard, and knowing that I would never spend time with you in it again (Took break to try to articulate a feeling that I don't even understand) made me feel sorry for myself, and made me regret the time wasted because we were pissed off with each other about the most irrelevant bullshit in this god forsaken planet. I want to punch something. Why didn't you tell me that you were dying? Didn't you know how much I loved you? Maybe not. I guess we didn't really talk about our feelings period.
But suddenly I realize, you did know, didn't you. I was truly shocked when I saw you at your birthday last May. Then I heard rumours that you had cancer. At the back of my mind, though I didn't believe it, I was wondering if you called me on New Years to make amends. Then when we talked a couple of more times after that, I figured the occasion simply motivated you to put mindless grudges behind us. But selfish me never talked about my part in it, I treated it as though *you* had finally come to your senses. I just pray to whoever this god is, that you always knew I never meant it when I said we were no longer friends, and I'm sorry that I have to put it out this way, but deep down, I know you know.
When you called a month ago and I was in my class, and I called you back the next day, you sounded rough, but said that you were sleeping and said you'd call me back. You never did, and though it was always in the back of my mind to just call back, I never did.
How long have you been sick? How long have you known? Why didn't you tell me? Was insomnia and a muscle deficiency really something that you struggled with as well, or was that your front? I had no idea how much you were suffering. I know that you are in a better place now. I know that all of my sadness is my own self-pity and selfishness.
Bob is hurt because he didn't get to make amends with you. I feel a little badly for him, but it actually lets me see how much you loved me back. You made sure that I would not have to live the rest of my life in regret of not having reconciled with you. This makes me incredibly happy.
I have never experienced this sort of loss before; there is no blueprint, so all of my emotions are so genuine. I truly feel joy despite this constant flow of tears; I truly believe you are still with me. I never thought my first experience of a friend dying would be one of the few people who I truly let into my life and who always made me feel like everything was going to be okay.
God has maybe prepared me for this. I am at a point in my sobriety where I am learning to see how disgustingly selfish and superficial I am, but today, I was able to be present. I love your family. Remember when you took me out rollerblading for my first time, and I used going down on my bum to stop myself from having to turn on to Kipling, and took all of the skin off the back of my thighs? And your dad picked the tar out while I did my best to not pass out or throw up :)
I am looking forward to your funeral, I know why people call it a celebration of life now. And your funeral is the day before Easter. When we honour you, it will be the day after Jesus' crucifixion. Jesus was dead, and now so are you, but Jesus rose, and so will you. And when it is my turn to rise, I will see you once again my friend. I love you so much. Peace.
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