Monday, September 20, 2010
You were my best friend, I loved you. I refuse to say nice things about you because you are gone. But I will say things that are true.
You pissed me off, you drove me mad, you were grumpy and short tempered and selfish when you wanted to be. If someone asked for your help you begrudged it.
But if someone NEEDED your help you were there, you would travel oceans for the people you cared about, and sometimes even those you didn't. I once told you you wouldn't do anything for nothing, but you proved me wrong over and again.
But I do know that's what you wanted us all to think. You said you were a rock. you said you didn't care about anything or anyone. You were also a terrible liar. You were a rock, you were MY rock, you were my constant. But you were also my stormy ocean.
I hated how you would ring because you were bored, I heard about every bite of food, every breath inhaled, every conversation you had. You NEVER asked how I was going. It drove me mad. When I woke up today I wondered when you would call because you did every day. And then I remembered. Today I am looking forward to that moment tomorrow, those split seconds of semi-consciousness before I remember you are gone.
I miss you, I miss your smell, I miss crosswords, I miss your constant talking, I miss your grumpyness, I miss your food, I miss stealing hugs from you, I miss you making excuses to come see me. I wish you were here to take control of this crisis. When things are at their worst, you are at your best.
I know you would be shitty at me for caring. You would be scowling at me sobbing over my keyboard and telling me to harden up, that life goes on, that you don't care. You would be organising things, making deals and preparing for the future.
But you are not here. And I want you back.
I want you to message me crossword clues. I want you to tell me to be good. I want you to boss me around. I want you to to be a pain so I can tell you off. I want to correct your spelling and grammar. I want you to bag out my relationship, and call me fat, and be an obnoxious drunk. I want you to say Roller Derby is for fat ugly lesbians. I want to make you things that you don't like. I want you to be embarrassed by my clothes, my hair. I want you to make politically incorrect comments just to shit me.
You were my friend, you were my family, and now I don't really know what to do without you.