Ode to a Friend

Why are all the great poems and songs dedicated to the loss of lovers? I understand that pain. I've felt it. I mourned the break up of my marriage as if it were a death. But that was before I lost my friend. The pain is so much deeper, the grief so much more difficult to bear. My friendship with Christian was longer and truer than all of my long-term romantic relationships combined. Her death hit me infinitely harder than even the worst of the break-ups. Certainly the great writers and artists lost friends at some points in their lives. Were those losses not as significant to them? Or, perhaps, they were too difficult to write about.

I do find it hard to write about her sometimes, but I feel like I must. I don't want to forget anything. I don't want to lose any memories. I don't even want to stop grieving because this, too, is part of our friendship. The final stage. From here on out, our friendship will be one-sided for the first time. I will do everything I can to honor her life and respect her legacy, but she won't be here to receive it. Now, however, during this horrible grieving process, we are still together. I have not let go of her hand. This is my last time to be with her, and even though it is in spirit, I feel her presence with each passing moment. I see her looking at me uncomfortably and awkwardly every time I cry. She's seen me cry before, many times. I only saw her really cry once. It shocked me to my core. December 2006, we were alone in the law library working on a project. I noticed something was wrong. She told me. I grabbed her and took her outside and just held her as long as she would let me (maybe even a little longer). I cried with her. She wanted to continue working on our project but I grabbed our stuff and threw it in the car. We went to Starbucks and talked. She told me she really thought she could finish the project despite her personal crisis. I believed her, but told her that we needed to let the project go anyway. I couldn't go on working knowing that she was hurting. And I knew she would try to use the extra work to numb the pain. It did not feel right anymore. I told her we will quit together, and take mutual responsibility for the failure of the project. She finally agreed. Neither of us had really ever quit anything before, nor did we like the idea of failing in something we had signed up to do. It was a difficult decision, but we made it together, and it was the right decision. I'll never forget that day.

Oh my dear, dear friend. I miss you so much.