My old friend,

I keep wondering if you're in purgatory or in Heaven. I pray that you're in Heaven, because I have no idea what you'd be paying for in purgatory for this long, but I don't make that decision. So, I don't know. 

What kind of person thinks about that? I'll tell you what kind of person.. me. 

I'm the weird person who sits up at night talking to a guy about Catholicism, who asks why, the kind of person who doesn't have all the answers, and the kind of person who wishes it was easier. 

I've missed you. I've been wishing you were here, but I've been moving on. I forgot the sound of your voice, and I've started forgetting what you look like. It isn't emblazoned into my head anymore. I used to wish I could forget you. So it'd be easier, but now.. now I'd give anything for a picture of you, a smile, a laugh, or even just a second in your presence. I miss you. 

I'm supposed to be happy for you. Because you get to be a saint now. Not like St. Lucy or St. Michael, but you get to be in the presence of Jesus, and of all of my crazy Catholics (I say that with the utmost endearing tone)... that is seriously the only thing you ever wanted. I mean, you wanted a family, and marriage, and babies.. you wanted college and life, and everything.. but ultimately you wanted Heaven. You got there so early though. I just wish you could have had more of the earthly things you had wished for. 

I wish you could be here, selfishly, because I wish you were still here to talk to. I wish I could have run to you when my heart was broken, I wish I could call you up and tell you about the guy I like. I wish I could tell you about bowling and movies and soup and all the craziness. I wish I could tell you about the things going on in my world, and I wish there were things for you to tell me. 

You're gone. I've forgotten your voice, your smile, your face. I'll never forget your ridiculous laugh. I'll never forget the ridiculous times we had together.. The bunnies, the soccer games, the swimming, and the books. The endless books. 

I had a dream about you tonight, that's why I'm writing about you now. I had a dream we were in the same room. I don't remember your voice, but we were talking in ASL. I don't know that much, so our conversation was ridiculous and choppy and nonsense. But, you were there. We talked about the boy, we talked about the weather, the seasons, our families. It was short, and I woke up crying because I wanted more.

I miss you,

H.Eilene

My best friend died near the end of our senior year of high school. She lived far away, and I didn't want to talk about it. I still don't. But, time keeps passing and I feel her memory slipping away. Tonight, I woke up. My eyes were soaked with tears and my cheeks were dripping wet, and I just kept wishing to fall back asleep and see her one more time. But, I can't. She's gone. 

I pray she is in Heaven. I pray she's up there partying it up with Jesus. 

This is another one of those posts, where if you read it, I don't want to talk about it. I don't want elusive conversations trying to hint at it. Just click one of the boxes below, and I'll appreciate that you read it, and cared and even more so, I'll appreciate that you respected my space.