Posted on by Liz

A Whole New World

That boy you had a crush on in high school liked one of the recent posts to your Facebook wall. I often wonder if he feels the same way that I do regarding your death.

Years ago, I remember you telling me about how you played coy one year by not wishing him a happy birthday immediately. We were in eleventh grade and you were sitting behind him during your writing class. I was quite taken with your story so I wrote it down:

Her: Your tag is sticking out.
Him: Is it?
She nods.
Her: Happy birthday.
Him: Thank you.

I wanted you and him to end up together. So intensely in fact, that I brought him up in conversations for many, many years. I was so pleased to hear that after crushing on him for so long, you finally had your time together.

But, the depth of emotion during your encounter scared you. You explained that it was too tender, too caring, and you couldn’t handle that kind of relationship. You wrote him a letter and as far as I know, that was the end of that.

Your love life was always so full of drama and angst. I always felt like you deserved better. Unfortunately, I know that you suffered profound emotional trauma which prevented you from accepting the love that you deserved, both platonically and romantically. And that, I think, is a profound tragedy. You were always worth the time and effort and I am so sorry that you never let yourself accept that.

Posted on by Liz

Hello

So far, you haven’t been in my dreams. But last night, I did dream of you. It was strange. My conscious mind somehow knew you were gone, but there you were, driving the car I was a passenger in. I don’t know where we were going or what I was doing in a car with you. But, we were having a conversation. We were talking about why you cut me out and if it was because of your drug use. I spoke to you like you were still doing it. For some reason, I told you that you needed to stop and you told me how your addiction began. You said that you were taking a different drug, not expecting it to be laced with heroin. It wasn’t something you sought out or even wanted to start in the first place. But once you had it once, you couldn’t stop. And then you were lost.

Dreams are such tricky business. I don’t think I’m psychic or that I was actually speaking with you last night. I’m sure it was just my own mind searching for answers, wishing I could have them for my own curiosity and closure. But I’d like to think my dream was right and that you didn’t want to do heroin and that you took it once by accident, mixed with a party drug or something. I’m not sure if that’s even possible, but it’s somehow preferable in my mind than believing you sought out a dangerous opioid while trying to self medicate your mental health.

When my dream ended, I don’t think we said goodbye. If we did, I don’t remember. That’s not really what I want though. I don’t want to say goodbye. I want to say hello. I haven’t said hello to you in such a long time. And I miss you so much.

Posted on by Liz

I keep rereading our old conversations. Over and over and over again. I get something new out of it each time. Today, I noticed you asked me six years ago if I ever watched Game of Thrones. I said no. You asked me a few times later too and I conveyed that I had no intention of watching it either.

My husband made me watch the entire series beginning this past March. I didn’t like it. I don’t know if it was because the hype surrounding the television show made my expectations higher than they would have been if I had just started watching the show from the beginning, but nevertheless, I was not impressed. From what you said me to me in that conversation though, you were.

It surprised me actually. While the show does have its fair share of violence and sex and beautiful men and women, which are things you lived for, it seems like it would have been below you in terms of the quality of writing and the amount of intelligence it requires for viewers to understand. I always assumed a show like Games of Thrones wouldn’t really pique your interest and would only be something you watched to please a boyfriend or lover. Maybe that’s how it started. Maybe he asked you to watch and then you got hooked. Maybe it became your guilty pleasure. I wonder if that’s how it was with the heroin too.

The series’s last episode airs tonight. I’ll be thinking of you. I’m always thinking of you.