stopping by

my friend died 8 years ago.

well... 8 years, 1 month, and 14 days ago.

this year i forgot to celebrate his birthday, which i usually do by buying a blueberry muffin because i'm too lazy and inept to make blueberry pancakes like he would want me to. then again, he'd probably laugh at me for the blueberry muffin too and tell me to stop being so serious about everything. as if muffins could be serious! sometimes i skip the muffins and just go outside and blow bubbles, which i consider seriously UNserious.

i dream about him sometimes. usually the dreams are obvious composites of my memories of him, of photographs i still have lying about, lying in wait for me to come upon them at random moments. sometimes they're a little more solid, better recollections maybe. or maybe something else.

today i took a nap on the couch and just as i was falling asleep i heard him walk into the room. he sat down on the edge of the couch (on my foot) and i replied, "hey!" and he laughed at me. he sat there for awhile but when i sat up he was gone. and i was awake. my first thought was that he left rather quickly, considering he could never find his shoes...

people say that grief gets better as time goes on. they're liars. the sharp empty pain goes away, but the missing gets worse. when my friend died we were living in two different states and i hadn't had a chance to hang out with him in awhile. he called to tell me he was moving to my town and we made plans to go dancing and watch movies and do stupid crap... and 3 hours later he was dead.

i guess i could just leave it at that. he's not angry... but i still am. he was killed by a drunk driver. and it's hard to let go of the... what is it? rage? indignation? something tied to the pointlessness of it. that that woman could kill him so easily, get off so easily, and resume life so easily. i haven't quite packed that away yet. and i'm sorry about that. maybe it has to do with all the people who think talking about driving drunk is somehow amusing. i can't tell you how many conversations like that i've overheard. and had to excuse myself from before i began shouting. but people never learn. they always think, "not me, i'm a GOOD driver when i'm drunk." they're wrong. but so far they've been lucky. and logic can't compete with luck.

so, even though my friend stopped by just to say hi to me... to hang out a bit and give me a little moral support (and tease me about my seriousness level), i'm going to tack a message on of my own. for all the people who have made claims of "good" drunken driving, for all the people who have said, "i'm fine," before grabbing their keys and jumping into a multi-ton vehicle, i say to you: it's mindless jerks like you who are the reason that people like me have to hang out with their best friends in their sleep, rather than calling them up and going to see a movie. and i think you suck. which is a very mild way of summing up my emotions on the subject.

my friend? heh. he'd shake his head at my general indignation and ask me if i wanted to go to the park and swing. so at least only one of us hates you. too bad it's the one who's still alive.