One Year and One Day
It has been one year and one day since the most recent death of one of my friends. There were four in short succession, then KP was the last in a while. Tomorrow my sister and brother in law and a close friend and her boyfriend (who I wish I was better friends with) move away. I know I’m supposed to be optimistic but I think I’ll stay stuck here and eventually they’ll stop bothering to come back to the depressing place they’re from. I’ve gotta say though, if I’m forced to choose between a kind of loss of loved ones, I choose them moving on to better things over dying young. Maybe this is what will happen now. People I love will keep moving instead of dying. I suspect both will happen, though. I always wonder who will be next. Maybe no one and I’ll just worry forever, or maybe there will be someone even closer to me and the worry will turn into obsessive fear. I left work early because I wanted to cry because everyone is leaving and KP’s been gone for an entire year (and a day.) It’s irresponsible and I suspect says something awful about how I’m doing managing my anxiety and my depression. I didn’t even actually cry. One time at another job they played one of those songs that’s always played at young people’s funerals, that I heard at Maggie’s and KP’s, and I finished my shift and then hid in the bathroom of a bookstore so I could cry for awhile. It’s dumb sometimes, the things that get you.
A friend of mine dressed as Him for Halloween once. It was brilliant ‘cause he’d just started T so he was still shaped like, you know, able to fill out that weird dress Him wears, but wanted to go as a dude villain. He also did Desire from Sandman that year. Apparently there are a lot of great costumes for the gender fluid.
(Source: forever90s)
