I had a dream a while ago. I went camping in the desert. Whomever I was with had convinced me that it was different than camping because it was in the desert. Except, as you well knew, I’m smarter than that. But I let myself be convinced and I went. And in the dream it was awful and I thought, “this would be fun if Peter was here”.
Oh boy did that make me sad. I woke up feeling sad and missing you.
It’s been 2.5 years since you committed suicide and I still can’t get used to the fact that you’re gone. I keep my favorite picture of us (from my 30th birthday) in my living room. I smile when my gaze lands on it, but it still makes me sad afterward. I know that someday it’ll be just the happy memories, but I’m not there yet.
I haven’t been able to delete your number from my phone or your birthday from my list. I can’t. It feels very permanent. Which sounds ridiculous, but part of me likes that those reminders are there. They force me to think of you. It might be hard, but thinking of you is better than forgetting you. That much I am sure of.
I had a board game party for my birthday this year. I talked about you. We were playing a trivia game and I answered, correctly, velociraptor. Mindy said she didn’t think anyone would have guessed that. And I told her about you, doing your Sean impression, and calling him a velocoraptor. It still makes me laugh to think of you flapping all over GW doing that impression. I know you would have been a fantastic addition to that party. You would have done the impression and then everyone would have that memory.
I can’t imagine ever having a game party and not wishing you were there. Your friendship changed me. You were like no one I had ever met before. You’re still one of a kind. And I embraced that side of me, that craziness, because of you. That part of me that is like no one else is now the part I am most proud of; it’s the part that is most me.
Thank you for being part of my life,
(to see why I am doing this, read here)