Announcement - Posting to resume on Sunday 13 May 2007

Please note that I am taking a two-week break from posting.

Thanks to all of you for visiting, contributing messages, and wanting to make a difference.

Posting will resume on Sunday 13 May 2007.

For now, take care.

Your fingers tickled...

Your fingers tickled me.
Your arms carried me.
Your mind protected me.
Your smells comforted me.
Your eyes melted me.
Your death froze me.

Remember when we...

Remember when we were kids in church, and you blew into that empty Chiclets box to make those funny noises? Priceless.

Hello, How are...

Hello,
How are you? Strange question I guess, but I have never been good at small talk. As you probably know, I hate you for leaving me.

I keep seeing...

I keep seeing
Images of you
Running,
Running through wind so
Happy,
Hair floating like a
Halo around your
Beautiful face.

Your passing away...

Your passing away used to control me. Now, it just influences me.

Like a musical...

Like a musical note, piercing and sustained, is the
Pain of loss, the
Fear of degeneration, the
Emptiness without
You.
Like gentle voices, piercing through that note, is the
Comfort of what was,
Before the madness, the
Chaos, and
Death.
Like a wind that blows all the music away is
Everything I hadn't noticed when
Life was a goal, and
You took care of
Me.

I am tired...

I am tired of people who keep asking me if I am alright. They think they are comforting me, but they really are making things worse. I want everyone to leave me alone. Why is it that they all think they know best? They have no idea.

If only you...

If only you could return, as yourself or as someone else, then maybe I could be happy again.

There is no...

There is no point in being proud of anything anymore.

You, alone, are...

You, alone, are my audience.
I speak to you.
You listen to me.
You know everything about me.
You, alone, hold the responsibility
Of keeping me alive.

You did not...

You did not prepare me for dealing with your absence. You never taught me how to deal with the business of life, and you certainly never taught me how to manage the business of death.

The tragedy of...

The tragedy of your passing is obscured by a circus of drama. People who used you in life now pick at your bones. People close to you watched over your wealth while directing your demise.

It's getting easier...

It's getting easier. I feel kind of guilty. It's strange, hey? It's like your death is pulling me in one way, and life is pulling me in the other way. But life is winning at this point. You always needed so much attention from me, and I still feel guilty for not having given you what you needed when you were alive. I was an asshole to you. And now I am afraid of going to hell. I guess the guilt and fear that stay with me is your way of getting back at me. Ha! I hope your smiling up there seeing me struggle. I'm just so scared now.

You were always...

You were always afraid to see yourself. You could look in the mirror, but what you saw was a deflection, not a reflection. Everything was someone else's fault. You thought you had it all figured out. You thought you knew it all. If you had just taken the time to look, to see why you were so stressed out, then maybe you wouldn't have had your heart attack. You ate, drank, and drugged yourself to death, all while convincing yourself that you were "just having fun." We tried to talk to you. We knew you weren't having fun. We knew you were escaping. Perhaps now, you have learned your lesson. Perhaps in your next life, you will know how to see, not just look at, yourself clearly. Perhaps you will be able to love yourself, and, if you're lucky, love someone else. And finally, perhaps you will be able to recognize when someone loves you enough to say goodbye. Goodbye.

I am using...

I am using him to replace you, and I feel guilty. You wouldn't have approved of this kind of behaviour from any of our friends when you were alive. I wouldn't have either. But I feel alone, and so what if I have to sacrifice a lamb who just wants to help me.

When she got...

When she got sick, you were the one who told me she would be fine. You were the one who made me smile every day. I felt comforted by what I perceived to be some superhuman wisdom that you possessed, some insider information that no one else knew about her condition.

But she died. And now you too have left us.

I hope that you and her can meet, wherever you are, because I am sure you would get along with each other very well. Both of you were loving, caring, and beautiful human beings.

Goodbye my love...

Goodbye my love. You have meant more to me than anyone else, and now I must say goodbye. I must let you go. Goodbye.

I wish I...

I wish I knew when I was going to die and finally be reunited with you. It would be easier to plan things. I'm just waiting.

We used to...

We used to sit in our family den listening to "Lovin' You" by Minnie Ripperton over and over and over again, singing the lyrics and challenging our vocal chords every time we got to the highest part following, "Do do do do do." Not only was the song an anthem for us as children, it is a memory of a great vocalist, who inspired the likes of Mariah Carey and died far too prematurely of breast cancer. You, too, died of breast cancer, and the song "Lovin' You" is a constant reminder of the joy I used to experience with you, my defender, when you were alive and well. Just as no remake of the song has been as stellar as the original version, no one has given me the colors and protection that you did when you were alive and well. I still hear the echo of your beautifully shrieking attempts at the upper registers of the song, as well as our uncontrollable laughter after the always inevitable failure of trying to mimic the exceptional range of Minnie Ripperton.

I have been...

I have been looking for the old photograph of you and me on the coast of Rhode Island. You were wearing the Irish fisherman sweater that I gave you. You looked so handsome. I'm wearing the sweater now, and I wish I could find that damned photograph.