Dear S.,
You’ve been gone a week today. I finally slept for the first night. Not for lack of being exhausted. But, you know. The neighbor finally needed to rest his evil head.
That’s what’s in my head today. The absolute pieces of shit who live on while people like you die too young. Like the entire population of Braddock Beach save for mom, me and my new friend T.
I think about how we both liked the same people and shared a violent distrust of certain others. It sucks losing you because you were one of the greats. The kind of people you have to import to Florida. One of the ones who leaves (I’m just referring to your return to Baltimore, just like Lady L did before you and T will soon do) because it’s just too weird here. And expensive. But mostly weird. And lacking in opportunity.
Funny how most people aspire to move to a big city. We lived in big cities. Many of them. And we gravitated here. But the good ones don’t seem to stay.
Speaking of, this summer it’s five years since Chip died. Managing editors are a near-extinct species. I need a job or at least a title change. Did I mention how impressed I was when you stood up and got the title and pay you deserved? My heroine. Honestly.
Chip was another one who was fine and working one moment and was suddenly gone the next.
I don’t think anyone outside our roles understands how much weight we carry. Including on our minds and hearts. If you think enough, the doing looks easier than it really is.
Say hi to Chip when you see him. Share a cigar and laugh at my yam fits.
In the friend circle, we are stunned that you had a “cardiac event” at age 31. Like maybe it was something else.
But the pain in my heart when I think of you hurting … And, now that you’ve seen my real life from your new view, all the other things that destroy me from within and cause mounting anxiety … Makes your heart attack make sense.
The difference is that you still went out and lived when you could. Not me. I live with the most anxious person on the planet and you know the rest.
I think it’s time to do a will. I’ve been thinking about it for a few weeks.
Maybe you know this where you are now — I was going to will my boxes of writings and my social media accounts to you.
Can’t imagine there’s anyone else who would have had a modicum of interest in that stuff. Now I have no clue what to do with it all. I guess when there’s no one left to pay for my storage units, my life will all go in the trash literally as well as existentially. Maybe that’s not a terrible outcome.
Wish I had something of yours. I was thinking how I loved two of your necklaces. Christina and your mom should have those. Then I thought — ha — I should get your wine opener.
Then I remembered, I gave you mine when you moved in with Diana. So I guess it’s only fitting that it keeps on traveling.
Well sister, speaking of traveling, I imagine you’d rather be watching the Olympics than listening to me. Fly back to Rio safely. I know you are looking most forward to the soccer. Enjoy every last second of it!
Miss you, love.
Goddess