silversolitaire

Today is Tom and my...

      

^_^

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.

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?

*sighs*

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.

*sighs*

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...

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...

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...