Letter to a Friend: Year 2
Two years is two too fucking long.
Today, I climbed a mountain to talk to you. I talk to you often, and you never speak back, but still… so often I can hear you.
Everyone seems to be doing so much better these days; that makes me happy.
We have some friends that scoff when I tell them that I hear you or that you’re sending me signs. I suppose they believe that one day you’re alive, one day you’re dead, and that’s all that really matters. I don’t know if I agree, but that’s ok. I love them more than I think they know, and they’re doing ok now. That’s all that matters to me.
We have some friends that believe that we’re all one. That I am you and you are them and they are me. I don’t know if I believe that either, but I like it. I wouldn’t mind being one with you, and them. Then, I wouldn’t have to miss you all so damn much.
But all I really know is that I still hear you. On the mountains… in the rain… amongst the strange little moments of serendipitous grace. I know that your bones are ash, your organs rest inside people who needed them more, and a little piece of you is still with me. It keeps me safe.
And when those moments of grace highlight an otherwise difficult day, I always find myself murmuring “Ben’s here”. If I sit still enough, I feel you. You’re usually smiling.
I reckon you’d smile if you knew how much I still journal about you. How much I write stories about you. And poetry. How much I cry… laugh… tell people who never knew you all about you. I reckon you’d smile, but you’d be sad too. You’d probably say something like…
“That’s kinda gay, bro.” And we’d piss ourselves laughing through the tears.
Because, secretly, you’d fucking love it.
I heard you laugh when I was on the mountain; I miss your laugh. You gave me a hug too. And, y’know, in the myriad of ways people grieve and the belief systems they construct to frame this coldly apathetic existence, I like mine. I like what we have now. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Well, that’s not true: there’s one other way I’d rather have it. But some things we can’t control… so this will do just fine.
Gay for you until the day I die,
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