Drowning
Losses are hard to count, especially when they are big or important things. Losses oftentimes leave a hole in your being. Major ones like various types of innocence can leave a scar. But I absolutely despise, I hate, I LOATHE when I lose something, or someone in this case, to something so ugly and so destructive as heroin. It sickens me that something so vile and foul could ever sink its claws into someone who had the potential to be as beautiful as she did. It sickens me that I lost someone that I loved immensely because of something I hate so deeply. I miss her. I miss my friend, my sister, my classmate, my buddy. I miss the girl who never ceased to make me laugh, through her original humor and crazy thought process. The girl who never hesitated to ask me to go along with her to a concert or two and never flinched if I asked to invite someone else to go along with us. The girl who looked at me sidways in a seductive way when I said my cousin was coming, and asked "ooo, is he cute?" as she winked. I miss sharing crazy drunk hot tub nights, even though we were both too embarrassed to speak of it, and even though we made a friend angry. We did it together, we shared so much.
In a way I feel like I could have prevented it, but I know no matter what I did it couldn't have changed a thing. I know in my heart I could have changed nothing, could have done nothing, could have accomplished nothing by deleting that number. But I still question it. Could I have done something? I tried to be there for her. When her grandpa died. When things in her life were falling apart. She was so funny and fun to be around, and I wanted that back. I wanted to preserve it. But she was falling deeper and deeper and I couldn't catch on to her hand and prevent her from being sucked into that downward spiral that pulled so hard at her. And now she's nowhere, and nothing, and I feel like she's lost forever in the grip of failure. Failure to be strong, failure to hold on, failure to try and keep herself afloat in the face of drowning. She played water polo, she taught little kids how to swim, but this time she couldn't swim hard enough to save herself.
In a way I feel like I could have prevented it, but I know no matter what I did it couldn't have changed a thing. I know in my heart I could have changed nothing, could have done nothing, could have accomplished nothing by deleting that number. But I still question it. Could I have done something? I tried to be there for her. When her grandpa died. When things in her life were falling apart. She was so funny and fun to be around, and I wanted that back. I wanted to preserve it. But she was falling deeper and deeper and I couldn't catch on to her hand and prevent her from being sucked into that downward spiral that pulled so hard at her. And now she's nowhere, and nothing, and I feel like she's lost forever in the grip of failure. Failure to be strong, failure to hold on, failure to try and keep herself afloat in the face of drowning. She played water polo, she taught little kids how to swim, but this time she couldn't swim hard enough to save herself.