Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Three Years of Missing


I mostly like to keep my posts on here happy and/or sassy. This post does not fall into that category. Fair warning. That's actually probably true of my life, as well. I like to keep it mostly happy and/or sassy. Unfortunately, I can't keep that up all the time. I mean... obviously. How well adjusted and happy can a girl with a Kurt Cobain tattoo be? Get real, guys. Sad stuff happens, and I get D in the Ds (Down in the dumps.) This week is my least favorite of the year. Yes, I love Christmas and all the family festivities, for sure. But the few days right before the 25th aren't quite as pleasant. I don't feel the need to talk about it most of the time, post about it on Facebook, or share it with anyone because truly I don't think it helps anything. I usually need to over-analyze and over-talk every single thing in my life. But with this, that has never been the case. Being sad doesn't make it better. Having depressing conversations doesn't make me less sad. Moping around doesn't bring him back. A life wasted on sadness is the last thing he would have ever wanted. I guess I just figure that at least trying to be happy despite tragedy is something everyone should strive for- at least eventually. Have I spent many nights listening to Elliott Smith and Death Cab for Cutie feeling sorry for myself? Of course! Everyone needs that from time to time. But it isn't a way to live your life, and it certainly isn't a productive way to cope with loss. I'm no expert, I just know what I know.

One day I will probably sit down and write about it. Probably over and over and over again until I feel I've gotten every last emotion out. Not today, though. For now, I will say that I miss my friend, and will go on missing him more and more every year that passes. Life is very, very short. There's no sense in wasting it. It's cliche but true. Every year at this time I am filled once again with a renewed passion to live my life to the fullest, make mistakes, and tell everyone I know that I love them again and again. I look down at my right wrist and see you there always. My constant reminder.


1 comment:

  1. That's a really nice, simple tattoo reminder. I've been trying to decide on one for my mother.
    I completely agree with talking whenever you feel the need to talk. It helps so much more. It just comes down to the awkwardness of bringing it up with people over and over again without feeling like you talk about it to much. I've realized over the last year and a half that I think I talk about it MUCH more than I actually do with people and that they have even said it doesn't bother them.
    Anyway, rambling aside, this was a really nice sincere post. Thank you.

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