Gone

Just that like, she's gone. I should have been a better friend. I should have actually gone out for coffee, an hour's drive be damned.  I should have made more of an effort and been less involved in my own little world. No sense in regrets now, I suppose. I'll just have to accept that I won't ever get to wish her a happy birthday next month, or hear her voice or get one of her tender hugs. My daughter won't get to meet her (why didn't I make sure she got to before now?) and my son will miss knowing a fun and gentle soul.

She was only 29, what happened? Where did she go? Why is that spark now gone, leaving behind only an empty husk? Yes, we'd drifted apart, but we'd never lost touch. Why isn't she still here? Why is there a (new) spot on my heart that has been coldly seared away? She was too young. She was healthy and happy (wasn't she? Did I miss something obvious?). It was a shock. Was she really missing or was she already gone and therefore (obviously) unable to answer her phone? WHY?

15 years of friendship and I'll never get to tell her how glad I am to know her or let her know I love her. Even if she hates Adam Lambert and I don't, and even if she loves Anime and I don't. Growing up would not have been the same without her. She used to call her birth control pills BQPs; she had a sticky note on her dresser mirror as a reminder to take them but didn't want her parents to know what the reminder was for. She loved all things Japanese. She introduced me to Cold Play ("Yellow" which I heard on the radio this morning, before I found out that she was gone) in the choir room over lunch. She was eager to lose her virginity. I never did ask her if it was all she had hoped. She teased me about drinking so much water. We took each others' picture making kissy faces. I have only one picture of her. It's a Polaroid; we doodled on it and she told me to keep it. I am glad I did.

She was the first person I told that I had been raped. She was a great listener. We once had a fight because she told my sister (also her friend) what I'd said about her, and my sister was upset (understandably) but it was all water under the bridge and we let it go. She came to my wedding. I'll never get to see hers.

We met up at Starbucks when J was a young toddler. I scolded her for texting while driving. She came over to watch The Last Unicorn and The Dark Crystal. We both love(d?) 80s fantasy movies, cheesy as they are. Once we binged on Oreos and milk and watched anime all night. I last saw her at my baby brother's senior recital. I should have spent more time with her.

This morning, I called my sister. I called my brothers. I called my mother. I called to tell them that our friend of 15 years had passed away. I called to tell them that I love them, because life is too short and unpredictable to leave important things like that unsaid.

Goodbye, Little Kristen. Namaste.