I got her back..

When I met my best friend I knew right away she was different than anyone I had ever met before. I felt instantly connected to her. She came with a mutual friend to my house for a Halloween party. We hung out all night. She told me she had an extra ticket to a Marilyn Manson concert, and asked me if I wanted to go. I did! We went and had an awesome time. I don't really listen to Manson much anymore, but there are songs that take me right back to that night. I close my eyes and see her on her friends shoulders, singing along to every word. I still feel that emotion. I found someone who understood. Who really got it. She felt the same way I did. She was damaged in the same way. Many years later and we have been to hell and back. We lived together for a long time.. We had spurts of time where we didn't talk to each other. Sometimes by our own choice and sometimes forced by another person. I lost her for three years. Her boyfriend would not let us talk to each other. He was jealous of our closeness. We don't even have to say a word, just look at each other and we can have a whole conversation. She is one of the strongest people I have ever known, and she got lost in an abusive relationship. Three years ago this month she called me at 4 in the morning. I had not spoken to her in a very long time. She was crying, said he was in the shower and she grabbed a trash bag of her belongings, left everything else and ran. She asked me if I would come get her. I didn't even take a breathe. I woke my boyfriend and told him I was going to LA to get her. I cried the whole way there. I was scared in the amount of time it took me to get to LA from Vegas she would have changed her mind, or he would find her. When I got there, I grabbed her things and quickly got her in my car. I didn't want one more second of her being controlled by some abusive asshole to have a chance. We talked, cried, sat in silence with tears streaming down both of our faces, and sang some of our favorite songs all the way back to my house. I am lucky. She is lucky. She's lucky she made it out of a really bad situation, and I'm lucky to have my friend back. She is now happily married to an amazing man who treats her like the strong, beautiful women she is, and that is all I have ever wanted for her. To love, and really be loved in return. .

My best friend - I miss you.

After all these years its hard to come up with things to write, but the memory of all the things I've remembered- written before is always there. You're always there. No matter what I do, or say you're always in there somewhere. So much of me is consumed by you that at times it annoys me. Its hard to let go of a person that is so much yourself. so much everything you want, need, and are. I think that if we were to see each other now, you would be completely shocked at how certain things have turned out.. but I know you'd be proud. As weak as I may be when it comes to you, because of you I'm stronger.

Its truly hard to believe that its been eight years. EIGHT YEARS. When the wind blows a certain way, or I hear something in the distance. It feels like for that split second you're really there. I close my eyes and see your face.. I hear your guitar.. I hear your bedroom door opening to go get something to drink in hopes of not waking anyone. I imagine you running your fingers across the ceiling as you walk into the kitchen. When I visited your mom after you died.. I could have sworn I saw fingerprints on the ceiling.. so I quietly stood on my toes and reached up to touch the places you had touched. I was scared to go in your bedroom.. afraid I'd see blood.. or see the way they had destroyed your room when they were "cleaning" it.. and gathering their information. Trying to figure out just who Bobby Wilmoth was, and why he would do such a thing. I sat out on the front porch with your sister.. letting her cry.. letting her tell me stories and me cry. I went to her house, and slept with the blanket you always used. I just wanted to be there.. in your life.

I wanted you in mine.

I really miss you. Things will never be the same, but I will never forget. Never is a promise.

I love you.

Sometimes it's easy to say nothing, hurt on the inside, and deny your pain. July 1st is a day I think about all the time. I dread it. Sometimes I wish that July 1st 2001 never existed. Just skip that day entirely. I think about you so much I don't even realize it sometimes. There isn't a time I hear a guitar, and don't think of you. There's so much I wish you could have seen- done. There's so much I want to tell you. I wanted to share you with the world. You had so much to give. So much talent.. so much beauty.. I am beyond grateful that you shared that with me. This flame that burns inside of me, burns stronger because I knew you. All of my stories about you have been told. I never get tired of them I just wish I had more. More stories.. more time.. more love.. more you. If I listen closely I can hear your voice. I bet you hate the way I've dealt with this. I just can't handle you and gone in the same sentence. It seems like a bad dream, with distorted images. Traces left on paper. Maybe I'm not the strongest person, but this has shown me that I am strong. I can deal with the uncertain.. shock.. greif.. agony.. and the great things. I've grown so much because of this.. because of you. That old saying "What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger" really rings true.

Your birthday is soon. I will celebrate it for you. I wish we could celebrate together.

Bobby, I hope that you've found your peace.
I love you.
I will forever miss you.
Sweet dreams.....

Because She Would Ask Me Why I Loved Her
by Christopher Brennan (1870-1932)
If questioning would make us wise
No eyes would ever gaze in eyes;
If all our tale were told in speech
No mouths would wander each to each.
Were spirits free from mortal mesh
And love not bound in hearts of flesh
No aching breasts would yearn to meet
And find their ecstasy complete.
For who is there that lives and knows
The secret powers by which he grows?
Were knowledge all, what were our need
To thrill and faint and sweetly bleed?
Then seek not, sweet, the "If" and "Why"
I love you now until I die.
For I must love because I live
And life in me is what you give.