My heart has been screaming for a blog post all day. I’ve been so overloaded with emotions that I actually started feeling squeamish and faint. I skirted the edge of tears in every moment. Now, there’s no more avoidance.
Looks like there will be no funeral attendance, but a massive gathering of my deceased friend’s old LA people are assembling in his honor next weekend. Yes, I originally viewed this as a gigantic positive – down deep, I still do. But when I saw the massive list of possible attendees, and the location of the service, it just felt like too much to take in.
I was at Disney Online for 8 years. This is where I met Mystic (how I shall name my lost one.) He was my first true friend there – someone I started spending scads of time with on the outside. Anyway, one says this about every office, but for Disney, this couldn’t be more true – these people were my family. This is how I am, afterall – family is less family than friends. I was so raw and lost back then, so freaking impressionable, that the impact each one made on me is indelible.
Good things yes? Of course.
Then the demons came.
So many demons.
It seems there’s a whole lotta emotion, a whole lotta unresolved issues, that i carry deep inside. I really didn’t know until I imagined myself at the gathering. It will take place at the home of a man who has been taking care of my old dog Pele for a decade. There’s the first demon. Pele was an angel Shepard that I rescued. She had burnt ears and would whimper and cringe every time you raised a hand to pet her. She had been horribly abused, and I wanted to save her. To show her that people can be love, not just violent.
I failed. Big time. Pele lived with my ex rocker-boy boyfriend – we had a terribly violent union. Pele got caught in the middle once when she devoured a $1k + rare Tori Amos CD cover – chewing this to pieces was the way she expressed her anxiety. It was covered with my scent, see. When I found out, I lost it – I screamed and wailed, and rocker-boy freaked out and attacked me. Pele cried in the corner and I ran to the bathroom with the usual I Want To Die thoughts.
A few days later, we gave Pele to a coworker. She’s still alive, he tells me. Running daily with her best friend Mushroom. She got a golden ticket, and I still feel like shit for not being the human she needed me to be. That turned out to be a trend.
The list goes on. All the issues losing Mystic has triggered in me. Because, see, say what you will, but I could have – SHOULD have – been a better friend to him. There were many times I would get an SOS text message or phone message, and be blase about answering it. I was afraid of how much he loved me – I didn’t know how to receive love. Still don’t. And his was so genuine and pure, without expectation of anything in return. Yes, I responded. Yes, I loved him madly. But he didn’t know how much. I promise you that. I didn’t take the time to show him. Words are fucking cheap. I may have said all the right things at one time or another, but I was only half-in with my intentions because I was fucking scared. Of feeling. Of allowing myself to be loved without conditions by a truer than true friend. I carried the idea that I didn’t deserve his love. Right now, despite the voice that knows better, it feels like I couldn’t have been more right.
My two main rocks, Pisces and RyRy, can’t make the gathering. I had hoped to lean on them – even hide behind them. I don’t want to talk about myself. I don’t want to talk about Mystic. Maybe I’ll change my mind in a week, but all I feel right now is panic and remorse. Of course I know Mystic doesn’t, and didn’t, carry any of these feelings towards me. I just have them for myself, and I need to do whatever I need to do to just let it go.
I’m am so, so sorry. . .for so many things.
