I found out today that my ex-best friend died. I’m feeling guilty and angry and sad and a little off.
I don’t deserve to feel sad about their death, but I should also feel sadder. I keep remembering things and crying and then feel bad for crying.
We had a massive falling out almost a year ago and then again a few months ago. I don’t want to think about the arguments and the anger.
I only want to think of the good times we had. At one point, we spent much time talking, vacationing and hanging out. We knew everything about the other person. We gave advice and offered help to each other. We spent nights talking and falling asleep on his mom’s couch when I didn’t have a place to stay.
He was there to pick up the pieces when I had my first severe panic attack and when I was ready to kill myself. I was there to help him move into his apartment. We were always there for each other, and then we weren’t.
We weren’t as close as we once were, then we were nothing. He was serious about having cancer, and I should have tried harder to fix our relationship. And now he’s gone, and I feel these mixed emotions because I’m still so angry at him, but it feels wrong to be mad at him.
And I don’t have any pictures anymore; I only have our matching tattoos.
We got these tattoos of a spider-Lucas, the spider from a Disney short. We both felt down on our luck. I wasn’t homeless anymore, but I was still depressed, and he struggled to keep up with his bills and other things. We were walking from a store and saw this stray dog, and I burst into tears. Saying no one is going to want me. A stray dog or cat might be adopted someday or saved, but I was like a spider. Who wants a spider? And as I’m saying this, a spider falls on my shoulder. I’m freaking out and crying because obvi a spider is on me. And I’m crying even more because I’ve just proven my point. He talks me down, grabs the spider, and says, “Here, let’s take him home. ” He names the spider Scotty.
The spider immediately fell or jumped out of his hand. On his birthday, we got matching tattoos.
He celebrated his last birthday in the hospital, his last Thanksgiving, and his last Christmas.
He was 26 years old. He was so young.