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Archive for the ‘anna’ Category

I don’t know what it is. But I just finished watching Here on Earth with K and it’s got to be the cheesiest movie of all time, yet every time I watch it, I cry uncontrollably. Now my eyes are all puffy just in time for work and I don’t know what to do with myself.

It’s like whenever I watch these cancer dying patient movies, I can’t help but think of Anna. Like it seriously never going to go away I guess, the feeling of sorrow whenever the thought turns to her.

What can I do. Nothing I guess. But live because she couldn’t.

I haven’t felt really good in a long time. Mostly because I’ve been sick for about two weeks, but emotionally, I haven’t felt truly happy.

Tonight, I spent about 2 hours on the phone and maxed out my calling card because I talked to O. When I got off the phone, I felt really nice. I haven’t had a conversation like that with anyone in a long time. And what made so great this time was the fact that it wasn’t a “catch-up” phone call. We’re past those now, we’re onto what’s going on now. And I like that. I missed that. Maybe that’s the thing I’ve been missing for so long, my friendship with O. Someone who will listen when I need it and be there for me as well. Something that I’ve been longing for since we stopped talking last year. I’ve come to realize, as I think I did this past January, but even more so now, that the reason I haven’t let go of our friendship is because it is real. For 12 months we haven’t talked and for 12 months there has been something missing. It was as though my best friend had died again. Only this time, she wasn’t dead, she was a few kilometres away and my pride was holding me back from speaking to her.

As I told her my problems of today and we visited the problems of our past, I reminded myself of all the times that she was there for me. Like when I broke up with my retarded boyfriend last September and was having second thoughts, she borrowed her parents van, rounded up D and they came and spent the night in order to make sure that I didn’t call him. It worked. And made me realize that I did, indeed, have people in my life that cared for me and didn’t want to see me waste my time with someone so abusive. There were many times like that that popped up in my memory and I couldn’t think of any events occuring like that over the past 12 months with anyone else.

I could dwell on the fact that a year has gone by and things have changed, and wonder if it is possible to get back a friendship once it seems to have been lost? For once I have an answer to one of my incessant questions. Yes, I think it can – if it was real.

When I think of hypothetical, yet wished upon, scenarios where Anna shows up at my door one day and says:

“Hey, I didn’t die. I needed to get away to get healthy and I’m here now. Wanna go for coffee?”

I would be confused, bewildered but more importantly estatic. Of course I would go for coffee, let me rip up every memory I have of her funeral and start over.

So why can’t we do that with friendships gone awry? Who knows where we would be in terms of friendship had Anna not passed away, it has, after all, been more than four years. But purely based on the fact that she died leaves me to believe that if that hypotetical situation happened, I would jump at the chance to see her again.

Isn’t that kind of sad? I mean, think about some relationships you have with people. Think about whether or not you speak to these people like you once did.

Now think of them dead. No, really think about it. What would you do? Sure you’d be sad, but would you be truly sad to never be able to see them again? Enough that you would wish on every star to give up everything you’ve ever owned in order to see them just one more time alive – to have that cup of coffee?

So wake up. They’re not dead. They are living their lives, maybe some of them are missing your friendship and just carry too much pride to do anything about it. Go write that letter, pick up that phone or have that cup of coffee. Because it’s not hypothetical to do so. The chance is still there.

If a friendship has ended due to unforseen circumstances which cannot be undone, it’s not really done. If it’s a real friendship, it’ll never be done – unless you let it.

It’s been four years since I last saw my best friend. I still call her my best friend even though I haven’t seen her; even though my life has changed so much since I last did; even though I don’t know if we’d still talk now. I don’t know these things because she died when she was my best friend. So I still consider her one.

Sometimes I feel a bit guilty because I don’t think of her as often as I used to. But when I do, I still feel the same sadness and my heart pulls at the thought because I still miss her so much.

I look at my life now and I look at my life then, so many things have changed, yet so much of it has stayed the same. I think it’s only inevitable that I wonder about the “what ifs” in my life. Like what would my life be life if she never died? Would I have changed schools? Would I have met any of the people I know today? Would I have been so determined to move up to Balm Beach three summers ago to try and deal with her death, allowing me to meet all my friends up here?

I try not to do that too much because all it does is drive people nuts, people meaning me. Because it doesn’t so anything to think like that. All I want is to see her again, but I guess that’s what everyone wishes when they lose someone they love.

It’s awkward when I go to her grave, I used to sit there forever and talk to the picture that is engraved on her tombstone. Now, I don’t know what to say. I feel as though she is with me all the time and I don’t need to update her on my life, because she already knows. I realized that is the reason my visits to her grave have become infrequent.

Last month when my heart got broken in a zillion pieces, the only thing that made me feel remotely better was when I finally dragged myself to bed and laid on my stomach, picturing her rubbing my back in circular motions like I used to do for her to go to sleep in the hospital. I could actually feel it. Maybe it was all in my head or the fact that I had four beers in my system at the time, but I’ve done it before. It makes me feel better.

I guess that’s how I know she’s still here, with me every step of the way. Watching me as I type this. Laughing with me when I laugh. Angry with me when I’m upset. It’s kinda like a stalker.
My hair just got caught on the back of my chair, maybe it was her pulling my hair for writing that. Hmm. Maybe, just maybe.