(Author's note. My post is my perspective of a very personal matter. A friendship of many years summarized with a few stories. This is a clip of a life much more colorful, whole, meaningful and full of love than I can ever do justice.)
I saw her
heart break and totally shatter on a street corner in Vegas. She told me I
didn’t need to walk her to the restaurant but I didn’t trust the situation. I followed her, a fair distance back so she
didn’t know I was there. I was afraid for her, not that she was in physical
danger, I was afraid she’d find out that this guy didn’t love her. He’d taken
advantage of one of the best and it could be the last time I’d see her whole.
When the yelling got loud, and people were staring, I walked across the street and pulled her away. Devastated, she was broken. We had a plane to catch the next morning, and I didn’t want to leave her alone. I suggested we stay in the same room, but she wouldn’t do it. I didn’t sleep that night and I know she didn’t either. In the morning she met me in the lobby and so began the shutdown that would last for months. I didn’t know if I’d ever see her again. I only saw the shell that was.
Alone. Longing for belonging, searching for connection. Music was her soul, her place of peace, her medicine.
I am haunted by my memories fading. Was Blink 182’s “I Miss You” the song that she found solace in when thinking about a special person that took his life? Her emotions so raw when the anniversary of his death would come and go. They had made a deal to stick it out together and he didn’t keep the promise. She didn’t tell me too many details, it was still too painful. Was this song the one she played in his memory? Am I making that up? Did I put that together and really it wasn’t her song? Perhaps the song is my memory for her. The irony and sadness, the tone of voice in the vocals, the rhythmic bass, the constant guitar that reminded her of him, and me so much of her? I’ll never know.
When the yelling got loud, and people were staring, I walked across the street and pulled her away. Devastated, she was broken. We had a plane to catch the next morning, and I didn’t want to leave her alone. I suggested we stay in the same room, but she wouldn’t do it. I didn’t sleep that night and I know she didn’t either. In the morning she met me in the lobby and so began the shutdown that would last for months. I didn’t know if I’d ever see her again. I only saw the shell that was.
Alone. Longing for belonging, searching for connection. Music was her soul, her place of peace, her medicine.
I am haunted by my memories fading. Was Blink 182’s “I Miss You” the song that she found solace in when thinking about a special person that took his life? Her emotions so raw when the anniversary of his death would come and go. They had made a deal to stick it out together and he didn’t keep the promise. She didn’t tell me too many details, it was still too painful. Was this song the one she played in his memory? Am I making that up? Did I put that together and really it wasn’t her song? Perhaps the song is my memory for her. The irony and sadness, the tone of voice in the vocals, the rhythmic bass, the constant guitar that reminded her of him, and me so much of her? I’ll never know.
I Miss You
(I miss you miss you)
Hello there the angel
from my nightmare
The shadow in the background of the morgue
The unsuspecting victim of darkness in the valley
We can live like Jack and Sally if we want
Where you can always find me
And we'll have Halloween on Christmas
And in the night we'll wish this never ends
We'll wish this never ends
The shadow in the background of the morgue
The unsuspecting victim of darkness in the valley
We can live like Jack and Sally if we want
Where you can always find me
And we'll have Halloween on Christmas
And in the night we'll wish this never ends
We'll wish this never ends
(I miss you I miss
you)
(I miss you I miss you)
(I miss you I miss you)
Where are you and I'm
so sorry
I cannot sleep I cannot dream tonight
I need somebody and always
This sick strange darkness
Comes creeping on so haunting every time
And as I stared I counted
The Webs from all the spiders
Catching things and eating their insides
Like indecision to call you
and hear your voice of treason
Will you come home and stop the pain tonight
Stop this pain tonight
I cannot sleep I cannot dream tonight
I need somebody and always
This sick strange darkness
Comes creeping on so haunting every time
And as I stared I counted
The Webs from all the spiders
Catching things and eating their insides
Like indecision to call you
and hear your voice of treason
Will you come home and stop the pain tonight
Stop this pain tonight
Don't waste your time
on me you're already
The voice inside my head (I miss you miss you)
Don't waste your time on me you're already
The voice inside my head (I miss you miss you)
The voice inside my head (I miss you miss you)
Don't waste your time on me you're already
The voice inside my head (I miss you miss you)
Don't waste your time
on me you're already
The voice inside my head (I miss you miss you)
Don't waste your time on me you're already
The voice inside my head (I miss you miss you)
Don't waste your time on me you're already
The voice inside my head (I miss you miss you)
Don't waste your time on me you're already
The voice inside my head (I miss you miss you)
The voice inside my head (I miss you miss you)
Don't waste your time on me you're already
The voice inside my head (I miss you miss you)
Don't waste your time on me you're already
The voice inside my head (I miss you miss you)
Don't waste your time on me you're already
The voice inside my head (I miss you miss you)
I miss you (miss you
miss you)
(I miss you miss you)
(I miss you miss you)
Songwriters: DWIGHT MEYERS, TERRI E. ROBINSON
© Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Sony/ATV Music
Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Songtrust Ave, BMG Rights
Management, Royalty Network
I was afraid that she’d stop the pain one night. Yes, I was afraid. Sometimes, not always. I’d reach out via text, email, and talking. Always trying to find the balance of showing my concern and love for this beautiful soul while not pushing too hard to where she would shut down. Fighting my own demons and hellish depression throughout the years I knew that we humans are capable of faking it. Faking it that everything is okay while being torn up and so sad behind the smile. I wanted to trust that she was doing okay. I wanted her smile to be authentic.
Slowly, ever so slowly, she healed herself. I began to have hope that my friend would see herself the way we saw her: intelligent, extremely passionate, loyal, fierce, determined, lovely, and beautiful.
Her laugh returned.
It was a standard medical procedure. Shouldn’t be a problem. I was headed out of town for a couple weeks. Remembering her post on social media about hugs and how people need hugs, I made a point to go over and hug her before I left the office that night. I commented that she was going to be just fine, but let me give you a hug anyway. Let’s be clear here. We don’t hug at work, and even in the depths of her heartbreak, she wouldn’t let me put an arm around her on that Vegas street corner. She stood up from her chair and I wrapped my arms around her. Not a quick hug, I held the embrace longer than she expected. I hoped to convey my need for her, my love for her, and that she was enough. When it got to that awkward point, I released my arms, asked her to text me and that I’d keep in touch once I landed.
A few texts back and forth. She was in pain and thought it shouldn’t be that way. No, it shouldn’t, make sure to check in with your doctor I texted. She didn’t come back to work as scheduled and that told me she wasn’t physically feeling good. She was with her parents and they were there for her. But something went wrong with the standard, simple procedure.
I was overseas. I thought about calling. I texted instead. I should have called.
...Like indecision to call you...
Her laugh is gone. Silent.
You spend so much time with the people you work with. Little did I understand what a friendship we had. My first friend that I’ve had to say goodbye to as an adult. Facebook memories cut me to the core as I see the photos of all the travel we did together year after year in July and August. I unfriended her as it was so hard to look back on her profile. And just like her, I can’t get that back and wish I could. Is her family managing the account? What would they think if I reached out to get a little bit back of my friendship if only by social media connection?
I was afraid that she’d stop the pain one night. Yes, I was afraid. Sometimes, not always. I’d reach out via text, email, and talking. Always trying to find the balance of showing my concern and love for this beautiful soul while not pushing too hard to where she would shut down. Fighting my own demons and hellish depression throughout the years I knew that we humans are capable of faking it. Faking it that everything is okay while being torn up and so sad behind the smile. I wanted to trust that she was doing okay. I wanted her smile to be authentic.
Slowly, ever so slowly, she healed herself. I began to have hope that my friend would see herself the way we saw her: intelligent, extremely passionate, loyal, fierce, determined, lovely, and beautiful.
Her laugh returned.
It was a standard medical procedure. Shouldn’t be a problem. I was headed out of town for a couple weeks. Remembering her post on social media about hugs and how people need hugs, I made a point to go over and hug her before I left the office that night. I commented that she was going to be just fine, but let me give you a hug anyway. Let’s be clear here. We don’t hug at work, and even in the depths of her heartbreak, she wouldn’t let me put an arm around her on that Vegas street corner. She stood up from her chair and I wrapped my arms around her. Not a quick hug, I held the embrace longer than she expected. I hoped to convey my need for her, my love for her, and that she was enough. When it got to that awkward point, I released my arms, asked her to text me and that I’d keep in touch once I landed.
A few texts back and forth. She was in pain and thought it shouldn’t be that way. No, it shouldn’t, make sure to check in with your doctor I texted. She didn’t come back to work as scheduled and that told me she wasn’t physically feeling good. She was with her parents and they were there for her. But something went wrong with the standard, simple procedure.
I was overseas. I thought about calling. I texted instead. I should have called.
...Like indecision to call you...
Her laugh is gone. Silent.
You spend so much time with the people you work with. Little did I understand what a friendship we had. My first friend that I’ve had to say goodbye to as an adult. Facebook memories cut me to the core as I see the photos of all the travel we did together year after year in July and August. I unfriended her as it was so hard to look back on her profile. And just like her, I can’t get that back and wish I could. Is her family managing the account? What would they think if I reached out to get a little bit back of my friendship if only by social media connection?
I grieve and
cry from time to time. When I listen to her music, and specifically Blink 182’s
I Miss You, the insistent beat, relentlessly marching to the end of the song is
the cadence of life. It is a direct synonym for life not stopping for those
left behind. The rhythm and lyrics bring me to tears.
Many a day, I’d retreat to my car, start the engine, queue up the song and turn the volume up loud. I’d drive, cry, yell, and feel.
The tempo of life goes on. The frequency of exiting out of the office, hurriedly so people don’t see the tears in my eyes, or rolling down my face is less and less.
And still.
I miss her.
