Juuust so you know, it’s that day again where I talk about Jessica and about how I’m coping with her being missing, and where I wonder what the fuck made me think I could get through a day at work like today was just some normal, ordinary day. So if friend-death is a thing you can’t cope with, leave this post, and go check out some kittens.
When I first heard this song when the album dropped last year, I was sitting next to Braden on the couch in my parent’s living room, and we each had one earbud in, and I leaned in to him, and he looked up at me at the end of the song and said “Well, that was a little close to home.” It had been a little less than a year then and I was still crying pretty randomly and not always sure what I was supposed to do about it. There were a couple times that I thought hard about doing greif counseling because Braden suggested that it had been too long for me to still be feeling the lack of her as intensely or unpredictably as I was. I never did go though, and that maybe was a silly choice, but it always seemed so damn strange to me that there would come a time that the feeling was supposed to be less intense and I didn’t really want to hurry it off.
The lack is less painful now, because it’s so normal. I don’t ever forget that nearly half of my shoes were her shoes first, and I think you all know better than anyone how often I wear her chucks (though, admittedly, you don’t know about my new found love of chucks + skinny jeans because I have sucked at outfit pictures for pretty much the entirety of that particular fascination). I’m wearing the Roy Liechtenstein themed ones today, because, well, they are awesome and perfect for this outfit. But I don’t forget that they were hers first, and that I only have them because she isn’t around to wear them. But the knowing isn’t as poignant or painful.
At the end of the wedding, I realized I had never cried. I had been so convinced that at some point, I would just realize she wasn’t there and fall apart. But that is not what happened. I was prepared for her lack, and while I felt it all day, I had been used to feeling it. It wasn’t a new feeling. So I didn’t cry. And it was ok. It wasn’t a bad thing that I didn’t cry, I didn’t even feel guilty. I had felt so much happiness that it was ok. It still is, every day, ok. Whether I do or don’t think about her, it’s ok.
Anyway, hopefully I’ll hook up a flash on my camera again soon and be taking outfit pictures? Instead of just posting stuff that other people have taken of me at dances? Thanks for your patience with my lameness guys. I’m a nerd.
Reading in Skirts 