It takes the cake for the worst week of my life, watching my best friend in the world slowly and painfully die. That fucking dry mouth, it comes back to haunt me almost every time that I close my eyes. That feeling of helplessness and just praying that I could somehow slip peacefully away beside her. What else did I really have? I've tried to explain what she meant to me, to many people, but I don't think anyone can fully understand why it hurt so goddamn bad. She was my soul mate-my other half. My Mom has my Dad and Paul to look after. Christian has Laura and Sally. Marianne has Craig. My friends are all married or practically so and no one ever liked me in a mono y mono type of way, but it was all ok, because I had my Grandma. With my Grandma, I knew that we had a very special bond and no one could take that away, until the gods of age and time did. I didn't know what to do. It was like a part of me just died right along side her, so I ran away, basically. My life has been so hard and confusing for the past couple of years that there just didn't seem to be any reason to live, except for her. I knew that she would want me to do good things with my life and help people and see the beauty in everyday. Thus I tried like hell to be the person she saw in me and I am still trying.
Then, it happens out of the blue and you seem to find the one person who gets you for who you are. The one person that you spill out your life story to in the first couple of weeks. The one person that doesn't make you feel like you have to be anyone, but your neurotic, half-crazy self around. The one person who truly makes you a better person, but life is too complicated for simplistic happiness. Nothing ever makes sense and life just barrels on in pools of pain with droplets of happiness that are hard to find.
