lines of flight

I’m filled with sadness. Don’t even have words. Actually I do, but none of them are the right ones.

How someone with such a lust for life is there one night and gone the next is just…. fucked up. Suddenly reality is too heavy to carry. It’s all I can do to stay distracted. I shift awkwardly under the weight of the emptiness.

Remember partying that one night in some really nice hotel? (yeah I forget which one) I opened the door from the gold-fixtured bathroom after puking my guts out and you looked at me, smiling in that rascal way, gently taking in my sick, pale face and swollen eyes. I can see your shining self and hear your voice (did you touch my shoulder?) you said, “Ohhh, Jeela” and I knew without a doubt, that I was a hot mess. Haha. You know I was.

But I always felt too, how you were looking out. You charismatic fool. That hotel night is like my worst best memory; I don’t even know why I chose it at this moment. It’s just there. Little snippets of our time together stand out right now. None of it is right. Jokes pop into my mind, I’m sorry: they make me laugh, and I hear you laughing! With me, at me, doesn’t matter, just laughing. Party, hike, BBQ, wedding. You made every life event MORE. Is that what got you in the end, my friend? Wanting more?

I regret not coming to see you when you were sick, not because you needed me, but because I love you. You are truly a bright spirit that hasn’t stopped burning. I expect the party to be raging when I get there.