Alex
"Thank you for existing."
Words that I don't ever utter, of course - though I am always thinking them.
Words that I want to say to those I don't ever get to spend enough time with, friends I mean to reach out to except that I'm too busy working on some presentation for the client and then I have to go work out and do laundry and watch Conan....
We'll meet up - randomly, of course - at some diner in Hermosa Beach or a cafe in midtown. We'll order coffee, swap stories of adventures partaken since the last time we had seen each other. And I'll walk away, inspired to live out my life as best as I can, so that there will be bigger, crazier stories to share the next time we see each other.
"Thank you for existing."
Words that I guess I should say while I still can.
(And I don't mean this in any kind of cheesy carpe diem kind of way... But I remember someone telling me at my brother's funeral that they thought it unfortunate that people only gather around to say nice things about you after you are gone. Why can't we do it while they're still around to hear how great they are?
We should all get together, guys, once a year and celebrate each other. We can take turns sitting cross-legged in the middle of the circle and have everyone go around and tell a wonderful story about each of us)....
---
There was this one day that Alex and I took the long way home on his moped. We were riding up a steep hill back to the Seoul National University dormitories where he lived and his shitty bike was having a really tough time with the combined weight of our bodies, heavy bookbags and takeout dinner. The poor thing was going at about 7kph, no matter how hard Alex pressed on the accelerator.
The jja-jang-myung delivery guy who was directly behind us patiently rode until he couldn't take it any more. He honked angrily a few times but there was absolutely nothing we could do. So we started laughing as we putzed up the hill, and then laughed even harder when the guy zoomed past us. Because there we were, still struggling up, still laughing merrily, long after we lost sight of his crazily dyed hair and large, shiny delivery container
I think this is how I want to remember Alex: with my arms around his waist, a big smile on his face, his body still convulsing because of our silly laughter, the air smelling like autumn leaves and his cologne. He wore Happy by Clinique, which made perfect sense to me, since he was the happiest guy I knew... and I utterly adored him.
---
I received an e-mail this morning informing me that Alex had passed away last week... in one of the most awful ways that I can imagine.
The only article that I found about his death was the one that I sent Sharon. It's so cold and informative, it's just another article in just another newspaper about just another guy... and my heart aches for what he must have been going through. http://www.thelocal.se/article.php?ID=4434&date=20060727
The last time we had corresponded was him asking if I was coming to Germany for World Cup, because he and some other friends were going to be there. There's a lot of "I wish I had"s and "I should've"s...
But none of it helps - that's a lesson that I've already learned now.
---
I was always thankful that you existed; that you walked the earth, somewhere - even if it was nowhere near where I was.
I hope you've found peace, oppa....
Words that I don't ever utter, of course - though I am always thinking them.
Words that I want to say to those I don't ever get to spend enough time with, friends I mean to reach out to except that I'm too busy working on some presentation for the client and then I have to go work out and do laundry and watch Conan....
We'll meet up - randomly, of course - at some diner in Hermosa Beach or a cafe in midtown. We'll order coffee, swap stories of adventures partaken since the last time we had seen each other. And I'll walk away, inspired to live out my life as best as I can, so that there will be bigger, crazier stories to share the next time we see each other.
"Thank you for existing."
Words that I guess I should say while I still can.
(And I don't mean this in any kind of cheesy carpe diem kind of way... But I remember someone telling me at my brother's funeral that they thought it unfortunate that people only gather around to say nice things about you after you are gone. Why can't we do it while they're still around to hear how great they are?
We should all get together, guys, once a year and celebrate each other. We can take turns sitting cross-legged in the middle of the circle and have everyone go around and tell a wonderful story about each of us)....
---
There was this one day that Alex and I took the long way home on his moped. We were riding up a steep hill back to the Seoul National University dormitories where he lived and his shitty bike was having a really tough time with the combined weight of our bodies, heavy bookbags and takeout dinner. The poor thing was going at about 7kph, no matter how hard Alex pressed on the accelerator.
The jja-jang-myung delivery guy who was directly behind us patiently rode until he couldn't take it any more. He honked angrily a few times but there was absolutely nothing we could do. So we started laughing as we putzed up the hill, and then laughed even harder when the guy zoomed past us. Because there we were, still struggling up, still laughing merrily, long after we lost sight of his crazily dyed hair and large, shiny delivery container
I think this is how I want to remember Alex: with my arms around his waist, a big smile on his face, his body still convulsing because of our silly laughter, the air smelling like autumn leaves and his cologne. He wore Happy by Clinique, which made perfect sense to me, since he was the happiest guy I knew... and I utterly adored him.
---
I received an e-mail this morning informing me that Alex had passed away last week... in one of the most awful ways that I can imagine.
The only article that I found about his death was the one that I sent Sharon. It's so cold and informative, it's just another article in just another newspaper about just another guy... and my heart aches for what he must have been going through. http://www.thelocal.se/article.php?ID=4434&date=20060727
The last time we had corresponded was him asking if I was coming to Germany for World Cup, because he and some other friends were going to be there. There's a lot of "I wish I had"s and "I should've"s...
But none of it helps - that's a lesson that I've already learned now.
---
I was always thankful that you existed; that you walked the earth, somewhere - even if it was nowhere near where I was.
I hope you've found peace, oppa....