WHEN THE MOOD STRIKES

A girl I went to high school with died in a car accident a couple of days ago. It hasn't left my mind.

She was smart, talented, athletic, strong, faithful, good, and kind. A little bit of a smarty pants, but if that's really all the negative you can find in a person, they've got it goin' on.  And my god, look where it got her.

She was a few years away from being a doctor.  She was going to impact the world.  She already had.  I can't say the same about myself, and I think this is why I'm having so much trouble.  Her death, at the age of 22, reminds me that you can't count on tomorrow.  That scares the shit out of me.

Her family says that with God, there are no accidents, and that she is dancing in heaven.  But I don't have a faith to go to in times of death or sadness.  I don't believe, so I can't make sense of things like this.. why she's dead. I honestly wish I could. 

It was the last day I was going to see him in three weeks; Christmas holidays were extra long this year.  He was packing away some clothes, music, books, games, for home.  Eight hours away.

I sat on his desk chair, he sat on his guitar amp.

That day was going to be a sad one, so I was comfy: tunic, tights, leg warmers.

He pulled me towards him by my feet.

"Are those socks, or leg warmers?"

-"Legwarmers."

"Oh my gosh.. I love you!"

Nervously we both looked at my feet, pretending it wasn't a big deal. My heart pounded hard, face flushed.  He had said it, out loud, not because he sat there nervously planning to say it, but because he honestly felt it in that silly moment, not even thinking.  I felt it too, but was scared; that it would seem false, that he didn't really mean to say it; that it would change things.. So there I sat, babbling on about leg warmers and other items I had stolen from my mother's wardrobe.. 

Since then, the words have been said, whispered, yelled, written, moaned, a thousand times over. Every day we are stronger, the words stronger too.

I can visibly see him get giddy as he professes his feelings for me.

It would be impossible to dislike him even if I tried. I want to do everything I can to make his life more full and happy. 

I love him entirely; his quirks, his faults, his desires, his soul - and I truly trust that he feels the same towards me.

Even if this wonderful togetherness we have for what ever reason ends, a part of me will be connected to him 'til the end.  I've been told this by others, but I have never myself felt it.