Hello to my blog-o-sphere family.
I’ve returned, ready to face the daily grind once again. I won’t say that I’m doing well, but I am at least doing better.
It’s never easy to lose someone we care about. I think in my case, the shock of the unexpected event hit harder than the actual death.
I had just seen my good friend Gabby on Tuesday night. We’d been talking, chatting, making jokes. She’d commented on my clothing and I laughed. She was always a fashion guru, even at the tender age of eleven. She told me we should go shopping and she’d help me pick out the perfect outfit to go with skinny jeans, which I’ve been coveting for months now. I excitedly agreed, told her I would be her lifesize Barbie as long as she made me look amazing. She promised to make me look like a rockstar. Then we said good night and parted ways. She left with her family and I with my husband.
The thing you have to understand is that although she was eleven years old, she was like a little sister to me. I’ve seen her grow up since she was 3yrs old. She was in my wedding 4 years ago. We did pool parties, cupcake bakeoffs, I babysat, we shopped. We were like family. And I wasn’t just like that with her, but with her entire family as well.
Then, Wednesday evening, while playing a game of Rummy with the hubby, we get a call. Gabby was hit by a car and they didn’t think she would live. I held it together for a while, mostly through shock and disbelief. No way. Not my Gabby. But by the time we were in bed that night, it sunk in and I just lost it completely. All I could think of was that we had made plans to go shopping and now never would. It was a silly, strange thing to obsess over but it was the only thing that ran through my head during this time.
I spent about 3 days in that kind of fog. I cried to the point of exhaustion. I went to work, hoping that the monotony would help distract me. I didn’t like the idea of being alone, not when I wanted to crawl into a corner and disappear.
After a carefree weekend of funny movies, junk food, and sleeping in, I feel better. As well as can be expected anyway. I’m sure come the weekend, when I have to go to her funeral, I’ll find myself back in that dark place, but in the meantime, I’m being strong.
Writing is a real safehaven for me in times like these, when I want to lose myself in someone else’s emotions for a while. So I’ve gotten to work on some of my WIPs devoting myself heart and soul. Perhaps something beautiful will come of it.