A Rainy Day at Home

Today I cried a little.  I hate that I can be so emotional, I've always felt it was a complete setback.  Some may agree it is, others may think it's endearing while others still just don't understand it.  I find myself on the verge of tears whenever something touches my heart.  Whether it be a touching movie, talking about a lost pet, a lost friend or just my family in general I find myself literally getting choked up over nothing.  I didn't used to be this way.  In fact as a child I remember rarely crying at funerals of beloved family members.  It's as though all those emotionless years are now catching up with me and making up for lost time. 

I felt like crap today.  It was similar to a wicked hangover only without the nausea, I couldn't breathe and it felt like an elephant had taken up residence on my chest.  All I wanted was my mum's.  I laid pathetically in my bed just about all day, getting up only to let my dogs out.  Finally I decided I needed to eat so I left home in search of sustenance.  I just wanted to listen to my music loud and as La Roux blasted through my speakers I couldn't help but think about another time.  A little over a year ago when her CD was all I listened to as I mourned the loss of my best friend.  I'm not sure why out of all of the CD's I have in my pickup her's was the one I chose, there was no meaning behind it, we'd never listened to it.  In fact he probably wouldn't have even liked her.  Two years ago I chose to come back to school and finish my degree.  The loss of my best friend felt even greater as I came back to his old stomping grounds. 

He was a great guy.  One of the first friend's I made when I started college.  He had the best parties and they were known as such far and wide.  He was always there for me, through the dark and the light.  Whether I needed an encouraging word, a drive in the mountains or a beer he was always there somehow knowing exactly what I needed.  He occasionally lost his way over the years, but he had a good heart and always found his way back.  The hardest part about crying over him is that if only he were still here he's the first one I'd call to help stop this nonsense.  His death was untimely of course and I haven't dealt well even though it's been two years.  I still clearly remember the day my friend called to tell me he was gone.  I had moved home and we hadn't talked in awhile I'd been thinking about giving him a call to catch up.  The opportunity lost and I couldn't even attend his funeral.  I never got to say good-bye to the one man I had a truly uncomplicated relationship with.  He was laid to rest in ancestral lands and I'm bound and determined to say good-bye to him before I leave in June.  Visiting his grave will be incredibly real and even though I know he's gone that cold gray stone will drive it home.  I've lost a lot of family, people I loved and cherished for years but for some reason I felt his death much stronger than any other.  He was my go to guy, my problem solver, my good time friend.  He was a colorful man and touched so many lives, my heart breaks for the three little kids he left behind.  So many memories, so many crazy stories, so many good times.  I hope he knows how truly special he was and always will be to me. 

XO Loves,

Me