silversolitaire: (sad)
R.I.P., X

November 2nd 1978 - May 21st 2002

Rest in Peace, my friend. You're still dearly missed.
silversolitaire: (sad)

It is May 1st and it's the 6th anniversary of your death. Again I woke up much sooner than 11 o'clock and without knowing it I walked out on the porch at that very moment of your last breath. Sher walked towards me, meowing happily and he made me pick him up and cuddle him, as if he knew I was going to be sad.

What can I say, love. I still miss you, but it hurts a lot less. I guess this is a good thing. Six years... seems like an eternity. I sometimes can't even remember the color of your eyes. I should look at your pictures, but I still can't. This will be my mission. I promise I will look at your pictures soon. And I will remember you the way you were and I will forget how you died. I promise you this. Just like I promised you I'd let you go.

I think I managed that. To let you go. I no longer feel you this close to my heart anymore. You no longer have this grip on me. You're merely a warming glow and this is how I want to remember you. I want to be able to smile when I think of you, not cry. I hope I'll have the strength to manage this.

I love you, forever. Never think I've forgotten you. I never will. I'm just trying to stop mourning you and start remembering you. I want to, desperately. I'll stop now or I will break my promise.

I remember you.


In loving memory of Amanda
deceased May 1st 1997, 10:40 AM
Viva in Aeternum, Bella.
silversolitaire: (d'oh!)
And here it comes: My rant.

When I got home today, I checked my old email addy. On this addy I get delievered mail from an old ML that I joined way back then when I graduated. Most of the time, it's rather annoying and useless since only people from my old class that I didn't care about used it to arrange dates for binges and crap. I went on no mail long ago. Then the thing with X happened and my good friend Ull posted a message to this list and I went on mail again to see the reactions. There were none. Nobody gave a flying fuck that a valued member of our class had passed away. Assholes. I was disappointed but frankly, that's what I expected from those fuckers. But okay, maybe they were on no mail, too.

Then there was the funeral and NOBODY showed up from our old class but me and his other two close friends. There were no flowers, no card, no wreath, no nothing. I don't know about you, but here it's custom to show your sympathy by putting down a wreath where the ribbon says something like "In loving memory, your class of 98" or so. Hell, even his old department at the U that he left a year ago had put one down. The class? Nada. Okay, maybe there was no money in the till for that. Granted. Those things are expensive, so I kinda understood.

AND NOW!!!! As I said, I checked my mailbox and what do I see? A message from "The Bunch of Fuckers", as I shall dub them from now on, that went along the lines of, "Hey, who else is coming to the fair this weekend? Thought we could meet up at the fountain and have a couple of beers! A mini class-reunion" so to speak" and in answer to that five or so messages. And then then best thing. I hadn't read that first message completely yet, but I did now in the response of someone else and this asshole actually wrote "Hey, maybe there's enough money left in the till so that Conny (class captain) can pick up the tab for us."


That's where I lost it. Those stinking rotting bastard cunts!!!! They didn't have a penny left to write a lousy card in memory of X but they want to buy their booze from the money that we own together??? They must be kidding. They GOTTA be kidding!!!

I hated them so much at this very moment. I wanted to write them a hateful message, telling them how much I despise them, that I hope they lose a friend pretty soon and that nobody will give two squirts of piss, that I wished they were dead instead, that I want them to choke on their goddamn beer and that I'll rather die than ever go to a class-reunion again, that I'd rather shoot myself than be in the same room with those dimwitted shiteaters, that if I saw them again on my Judgement Day it'd be too soon, that they all should go to hell and rot away in their own stinking piss!!!

*pants* ... can you tell I'm upset?

Anyway, I didn't post this... guess it's better this way. What I did post, however, was a brisk note that said "I think this is rather inappropriate to spend money on booze since apparently we didn't have enough funds left to send a couple of flowers to X's funeral. Enjoy yourself."

I hope they got the message. Stinking bags of piss...

Okay, that was my rant. I feel better now.


Jun. 24th, 2002 12:13 pm
silversolitaire: (Default)
Leaving soon... T_T Of course it had to rain on such a day. *deep sigh*

In other news...

Tom? It's sold!

Getting ready now.


Jun. 21st, 2002 08:43 pm
silversolitaire: (hmmm)
X's dad just called. So it's confirmed... the funeral is on Monday at 1:30... I know I have to go, but I don't much enjoy the fact that I do... *sighs* I will probably cry a lot. Also... I know it's silly, but I somehow don't want to meet his other friends. Like Martin. I can't explain it, but the more I talked to him on the phone on Tuesday, the less I could stand him any longer. And he used to be a really good friend of mine. What happened?


Another very silly thought is that I'm embarassed to show myself, since I feel like a whale right now... I know I'm silly. Oh well... gess I gotta get through it somehow.


Jun. 18th, 2002 09:31 pm
silversolitaire: (crushed)
Meow... fate doesn't like me today... I'm crying my eyes out and no matter whom I want to talk to, they all log off... T_T

This is bad...

I was supposed to work on my presentation now, but all I can think of is X... I just don't get it... Martin said that X made cards for people he wanted to meet again, which said "I'm looking forward to seeing you again" and all... Why didn't I receive such a card? Why... didn't he want to meet me? I'm so confused...

I hate this...
silversolitaire: (Default)

X's mom is going to call soon... She wants to know what he told me about the funeral... I don't think I can bear this... I can't talk about this...


Jun. 11th, 2002 11:28 pm
silversolitaire: (sad)
I have just been invited to X's funeral. It took them three fucking weeks to figure out whether the remains in the carwreck really was him or not...
silversolitaire: (sad)
It was strange today, getting into the house after knowing he's dead... It's strange... Suddenly I remembered where he put his shows, in those neat little wooden showtrees, where he hung his jacket. I feel strange... I can't cry anymore. I'm feeling rather blank. I don't know... I feel like I shouldn't be smiling just yet. That I shouldn't stop wearing black. Because I am... I wanted to wear black for him. It gives me comfort. But every time I smile I feel guilty. When can I stop? I don't know...

I'm still sad. Very sad... and rather unbelieving. But I can't cry. I went to his room and suddenly his scent is gone. I can't smell his CK one anymore. Before that, I could have sworn it was there... His scent must have left with him.

I see him everywhere now. I put in the Cruel Intentions CD while driving to the U. It was just an idea. As I was listening to it, images of X flooded me. I remembered how we saw the movie together, how the movie stopped in the middle and we sat in the darkness for half an hour, laughing like crazy. I listened to "Color Blind" and of course I thought of him, being color blind himself. In my kitchen, I saw a small pack of cereal, for months forgotten. When he left and gave it to me and said "Every time you see this I was you to remember my face saying: Eat this before it expires!" Needless to say, I didn't. Now I saw the pack and I saw his face...

I'm still so sad. But I can't cry. Not anymore. I'm completely calm... Maybe later.

I want to do something for him. Something... but I don't know what. I want to make sure he won't be forgotten. Something where I can explain all my feelings.

The thing bothering me the most right now are the questions. So many questions. I want to know where it happened. Exactly. And when. The exact time. I want to know what happened to the guy who hit him and killed him. I wanna know what he did when he died, what song was he listening to. What was he wearing? I wanna know if he finally had a boyfriend. I wanna know him... I wanna know how he spent his last days... I will never know all of this. I am excluded...

Two things are bothering me in particular. One is: why didn't he tell me he was going to come back? Why not me? I don't understand this... he would have told me. Why didn't he? Two is: he must have been in a small van he rented to move his stuff. I can only think it all burnt with him. It... hurts me. He always loved his stuff so much. He was so minimalistic. He had those little metal boxes where he always put his stuff in, so neat and tidy. Never a lot, but always treasured. I can't believe this is all gone. What is left then...

I hate how his parents handle it. Apparently, they don't want to bury him yet, just take his ashes and later inter him where they're moving to. For one it bothers me that I can't say goodbye. I want to... I need to. And also, I remember so well when we talked about our funeral. Then, it appeared so strange to me. Like everything else in his life, he had it all perfectly planned out. He said he didn't want to be buried at a certain spot, but he wanted his ashes to be shattered. I so so hope they know this. I can't tell them... I can't speak to them. I just hope they know it. And I have to force myself to remember. This is how he wanted it. He wanted to be remembered without a grave. Somehow I have to come to terms with this.

It's still so unbelievable. It's not me... not him... it's someone else...

For X...

May. 26th, 2002 10:47 pm
silversolitaire: (sad)
Because he loved him so much...

Funeral Blues
W. H. Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever; I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood,
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
silversolitaire: (sad)
Apparently... he got hit by a truck while caught in a traffic jam. The car caught fire right away and he died instantly...

What's really killing me is to know what he was going to move back to my town again... Things would have been like they were. We would have spent time together... drunk tea... went out...

His room still smells of him...

I miss him...
silversolitaire: (sad)
... I was looking forward to spending my weekend chatting, writing and painting.
... I was basically happy and content.
... I still had the confidence that I'd get to see my best friend who moved to Berlin again.

Today... he's dead...

I can't believe it... I'll never get to see him again... I'm so sad...

The X is dead...
silversolitaire: (sad)

today is the fifth anniversary.

I can't believe it still makes me cry. Just hearing your name makes me cry like a baby. Talking about you is impossible. Yet I promised myself that I'd never let this day pass without remembering you, no matter how much it hurts.

Did you know that I still think of you? I really do... Sometimes it appears to me as if I've never led a life that you were a part of. It's terrible. Then I freeze in shock and remember you. But you never look angry in my memory. I always see you smile.

Today I woke up around 11 even though I had planned to sleep in. I woke up and I had dreamt of you. I woke up the very moment you took your last breath five years ago. Coincidence? I don't know. You're still here with me, I know it. I remember how good it felt to sleep in this very bed, knowing that you were downstairs, taking care of me. I remember how good it felt when the time came that I had to take care of you and you loved me for being the one. You appreciated me as much as I had appreciated you all my life.

I can't remember a single day before you. But I remember every single day after you. You left a terrible hole inside of me and no matter how much love I found afterwards, it will never really close. I realize this now that I write this and I can barely see because the tears are clouding my sight.

I love you, I love you... I will never stop. I will never forget you even though I sometimes can't remember the color of your eyes. I still know how they sparkled when they looked at me, how soft your hair was when you comforted me, how you always were there for me.

I miss you... so much. I hope you're better now. I really hope so. I'm sorry... so sorry. I know you don't want me to cling to you so much, not letting you go. I hope you left already and my tears aren't holding you back. I don't mean to. Please forgive me for being so selfish... I try not to do this too often...

I should treasure your memories, instead of mourning them. But I can't. I really can't. I never looked at your pictures again. I just can't. Last July, I stumbled across a bunch of photos that hadn't looked at for a whole. I went through the stack and suddenly there were you. I couldn't stand it. I tried to smile as the others kept looking at the pictures, but my heart was breaking inside. I hid in my room and cried my eyes out. I wish I could think of the good times with you. Why do I only remember the fact that you're not here anymore?

Maybe next year it will be a happier occasion. Maybe then I can truly honor your memory and not cry helplessly at the first sentence. I hope so. You deserve the best...

I love you...

In loving memory of Amanda
deceased May 1st 1997, 10:40 AM
Viva in Aeternum, Bella.
silversolitaire: (huggle)

Today's the 4th anniversary of your death, my special friend. I still think of you. I've never forgotten you. Even now after only writing these few lines I feel the tears streaking my face. How could I forget you when I can still feel you stop breathing under my hands? When I stroked your hair and looked into your eyes as they lost their light...

Even now, fours years later, I still come home and a secret place in my heart hopes that you'd be waiting there for me. I can see your face in all the familiar places, I have a memory with you for all of them. I loved you so much that the loss of you will never heal. I wish I could think of you without crying my eyes out, but I can't.

I've never finished this painting of you. The day you died I put it away. I haven't looked at your pictures ever since and when our song is on I switch the station. Don't think I do this to erase your memory... no... I do this because I remember too much.

If I have learnt one thing about death then it's that it never stops to hurt. Never ever. You only think about it less often, that's all. But when you do, it's just as present as it was the minute your heart stopped beating.

Often I have wished I could bring you back. The weeks of darkness after you went away I begged and cried, wishing I could see you only once a week, or a month, or a year even! Just see you smile and know you're still a part of me. But then I realized how selfish I was and I let you go. The coldness gripped my heart, because I felt how you truly left me, but I knew it was the right thing. You wanted to go and I let you. That night I dreamt of you, looking at me from across a green meadow, covered with blossoming dandy lion and you nodded at me when you turned to leave. I cried after you, but I did not stop you... I have never dreamt of you again.

I have searched your likeness ever since. I felt guilt when I experienced some pleasure that suddenly was possible without you. I still don't understand how life goes on without you, but it does. I wouldn't have thought it possible. But it's only an "after" never a "new". You will always be the perfect one... I love you...

I have to stop now. I can't see the monitor anymore and I'm shaking all over. But it was necessary. At least once a year I have to face this. I miss you, God, I miss you so much...

I will never forget you.

In loving memory of Amanda
deceased May 1st 1997, 10:40 AM
Viva in Aeternum, Bella.
silversolitaire: (Default)
The terrifying thing about death is the mold. Yes... the mold. I don't want mold on my body when I'm dead. And worms. Worms are terrible. I've once seen a dead body covered with mold. It was terrible. So disgusting... mold... the most terrible thing there must be. Can one make sure that this doesn't happen? I wonder... You could be cremated of course, but somehow I find this terrifying too. There's a lack of options for dead bodies. Embalming would keep of mold and worms, I'm sure, but nobody does this nowadays. And even if they did, could you make sure the your family respects your wishes?

This reminds me, I need to update my will...


silversolitaire: (Default)

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