I have been purposely ignoring you for the last 9 days. You were making my life a living hell by being dead. So, I woke up on March 1st and made the decision to forget you. I told myself I could choose to not think about you. Choose to be happy you went on a long trip and I could live without you until you got back. Choose to stay so busy I wouldn’t have time for hot, angry tears. So, as of March 1st, you no longer existed and then I heard you laugh.
All freakin day, every day, for the last nine days, I have seen you, heard you, been reminded of you. I have dreamt about you repeatedly. When I laugh, I hear your laugh. When I look in the damn mirror, there is your nose looking back at me. Well, not actually your nose, it’s my eyes looking at my nose which is exactly the same as your nose which I always loved because we always said we had the best noses ever. Now I can’t even look at my stupid nose because of you. Thanks a lot, jerk face. And I ramble like just now. I can barely put three words together that make sense because all my energy is going towards ignoring you. You were impossible to ignore when you were alive. Now that you’re dead, you are unbearable when ignored. I seriously hate you sometimes. No, I don’t but I am seriously mad at you. Well, maybe not seriously mad but…. Look what you’ve done to me. I’m a freakin mess!
The day after you died, I prayed you would have left me something. Not money, jewelry or things. I wanted words. I looked through your nightstand hoping to find a letter addressed to me but it wasn’t there. A few days later, when I was getting ready to head home, I made David promise he wouldn’t throw anything away. Not one single piece of paper. He was wonderful, as he looked at me knowing full well I was losing my mind, promising not one paper would leave that house until I got to look at it. You were always the most organized person I ever knew. Everything in its place, labeled, dated and filed. I still tell myself there is a file somewhere in that house with my name on it, full of letters from you just for me. Please.
Hey, your high school friend Zana wrote to me. How nice is that? You are going to love what she said.
“Thanks for sharing Marla. It was hard to ask about what was happening and always getting the everything is fine response. I felt so shut out. Of course I knew everything was not fine. Thanks for letting me in a little. It's so sad, so funny, so screwed up and so beautiful at the same time. Can't believe it's been 21 days already.”
Do you remember how you and I use to fight over this very thing? You never wanted to see anyone, talk to people, let people know the truth. You freaked if there was a picture taken of you in your wheelchair. And what did I always say?
“Kelly! People love you, stupid. They don’t care what you look like, how bad you feel, if you’re in a wheelchair, walker or paddy wagon. They just want you, idiot!”
You never believed me. We fought over this like two stray cats on a field mouse. Well, I was right and for once, you can’t argue with me. I thought winning an argument with you would feel better than this. My consolation is choosing to believe you now know I was right. So……Ha!
Wish You Were Here,