8 years

Anyone that was pre-blogger knows about my friend that was killed almost 8 years ago.
I wonder every now and again when it will stop being so raw and in my face all the time. The other day about 9pm I realized I hadn't thought of her until then. I felt guilty. But there are days when I can almost still smell her everywhere I go, days when it still feels like I'm at the store talking about life and I'm shocked when I look around and remember that she's gone and am numbed almost to the core with the grief that washed over me again and again as if she is murdered anew every time I think about it.
I went to lunch today, I ate a bag of popcorn at my desk so I didn't grab food.
I ran to the gas station and the bank. I pulled into the gas station and there was an ice truck parked there. Thoughts of dlc floated up out of my heart. I walked in to pay and the ice guy walked out saying bye to the worker behind the counter. I felt nauseous, like I could just throw up. jmr that killed dlc worked for an ice company. It's how he figured out where to hit, they were on his ice truck route. She's in my head today, and I tip between happy and sad. I'm happy because I love her so much and I can think about the times we had and the person she was. I'm sad because those thoughts are always tainted by the end of her life. It's like sometimes I can't look directly at her memory because otherwise I'll see the end that I don't want to remember. What a silly effect for the driver of the ice truck to have on me. But, I looked at him hard, tried to remember what he looked like....just in case.
I know that some people don't understand why I'm friends with jcwc. It's all tangled up, complicated and simple. It's not the only reason we're friends, but it's one of the reasons. How do you go through something like that with someone and then not speak? How could I have had the conversations and gamet of experiences I did with him, how could we have waded through her death together and not speak? The very thought of it is beyond my comprehension. How could I walk away from the one person that can comfort me without even speaking or touching, without even knowing that I'm upset? Simple. I can't. That's the other part of this web. My thoughts of her will always be entangled in my love for him, and I don't think I'll ever be free of it, and somedays I'm not sure that I want to be free from it. So many thoughts and memories come flooding back again and again. Is it possible to think of the past so much without hiding in it? Is it possible to be available to any man when I feel so deeply and inextripably connected to another? If push came to shove could I let him go? If either of us were motivated towards commitment could I bear to see who he chooses that isn't me? These are all questions that must be saved for another day, as my lunch is over and back in the compartment it will go.