It's strange

[lolitagirl]

You know it's truly very strange where your mind will go on at 9:30 on a Saturday night while driving home during a super rainy night. Like... what happens if you were to get into an accident what would happen?? Sure the world would go on without me, yes, but what would my friends say or how would they re-act... such things like that, so it makes

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[ex_victims]

One thing I've observed from night time reflection is the tendency for it to spiral from musings to melancholy speculations. Personal experience notwithstanding, the death of just anyone doesn't arouse my passion or contempt. Essentially, the value of human life is static (we are all equal so our deaths are equally mournful) but the affects of losing a person close to us stay forever.

In less garrulous terms, I mean to say that death, or in particular, your death, would remain with me until the day my life leaves me. This doesn't connote my becoming chronically consumed with grief or remorse--I will move on, but memory is a powerful thing, and memory tied in with emotion more so.

In the most selfish part of myself, I wish to die first... As to avoid seeing the shell of my friends and family. Funerals have become an absurd practice. The person had already departed; we are merely saying goodbye to an empty husk.

Our friendship takes on many forms: complex, intriguing, and at times, blessedly simple. After Catherine's death, I've never taken a single friend for granted, although I admit to being deceiving at times. You're someone I feel indescribably close to, yet this intimacy causes me pain because physical closeness is so crucial after a certain point. In a nutshell, absence does NOT make my heart grow fond.

... I can't recall the exact moment I felt so familiar with you, but I do remember when you told me how close you thought we were becoming. In hindsight, I was never ready for this to develop beyond 'roleplaying buddy' status. I'm glad it did, though.

We may have our disagreements, tiffs, and days when we frustrate each other, but I find myself looking for your name on my Buddy List routinely. When my father pulled the stunt this New Years, you were the first one I called. I'm not good with 'opening up' to people--It's against all my defense mechanisms and childhood conditioning, so I hope you can make sense of all that ramble. What I fear is that one day I would be replaced, if not already. It's probably inevitable considering our age and whatnot, but I'm a negative nancy, so take it for what it's worth.