I'm not even really sure what I want to say today. But it's Sunday morning so here we go. Yesterday was Donia's birthday. She's been gone five months and I'm still crying this morning. She was one of the best friends I have ever had, ever will have. My ex-boyfriend is practically living at my apartment while we try to make sense of his good friends death last week. Death sucks. Unfortunately as we age, this is part of life.
Wouldn't it be great if we could go back to being young, no real responsibilities. When work didn't dominate our lives, when we thought we were immortal. Turn back time to the good old days.
Donia is definitely somewhere special now. She's one of the best people I've ever known. I hope you had a lovely birthday, my darling. True friendship is hard to come by. It's kind of funny, but the first JW I bumped into since disassociating myself the other week from the religion was Celine.
Celine, Heather, Monique and I were like those girls from Sex and the City. Only we were JWs so we didn't have sex. And we weren't allowed to watch SATC. But we were friends since we were little kids. Inseparable. All bridesmaids in each other's weddings. Except Celine, she never got married. I don't think she really knows how to love - herself or anyone else.
I saw her on the street a couple of days ago. She did that thing that they all do, look you straight in the face so you know they saw you, then avert their eyes and walk quicker past you. Like they might catch your non-believer disease. There's only one picture I keep up in my apartment from my JW past. It's of the four of us. Two of us got out. And now we get shunned on the street by the people who were supposed to love us.
It was real. It was good. But it wasn't real good.
This is what real friendship looks like:
Today will not be the last day I cry for Donia. Or George. I know one thing though. I will love the fuck out of everyone I have left. Be kind to one another. The days are long but the years are short.
Sullivan out.
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