Do it now. Do it now. You may not have tomorrow. If I have learned anything this year, it’s to do it now. Don’t wait for the right circumstances. Just do it, because you may not be alive tomorrow. And then you can say that you did everything you possibly could on your last day. Do it now.
Ugh how do I even start? How can I do anything, say anything? I can’t comprehend it.
I’ve been floating between my normal self and my heavy, weighted self that has to hold her head up. Once second I’m laughing with friends and I can feel the sun on my face and everything feels like it’s made of light and dust. And then I feel knocked out, like someone whacked me in the gut. It takes all my strength to hold my head. In school I am distracted. I can focus on the material and pretend like nothing has happened. This is one instance where school is a godsend. It distracts me and is so monotonous that everything feels the same at school. It’s a routine I can rely on.
I can keep myself together at school. But at home in the darkness, in front of a computer I can’t. Last night’s cry was in response to seeing my mom just crushed, just reduced to tears and grief and pain and loss. And tonight I cry because I know she’s never coming back. She’s gone.
I want to be held and comforted but I also want to isolated. I don’t want people’s voices. I want to just stand on a cliff and feel the wind on my face. I want solitude in a human space. I don’t know. The whole day at school I was just looking for silence. I want to talk about her death but no one wants to listen to that. And how do I bring that up? Why should I even talk about it? I can’t change it. I want to hug all my friends and tell them that they are the most wonderful people in the world. I want to tell them that I don’t say it enough and I just…can’t articulate anything.
I just, agh, why don’t we tell people how wonderful they are? How much we love them? Why don’t we looks straight into their eyes and tell them? Why can’t people see how much good they do? Why does it take death to make me realize this?
Because it was so comforting to know that she existed. That’s how I feel about the people I love. Just by being alive they make the world better. Just knowing that they were going about their day just like I was made everything a little more bearable.
Do it now. Please do it now.
The world has lost Peanut Butter. My wise Peanut Butter. She gave me butterfly socks, pushed me to start writing a blog, and taught me to read all the written passages in museums because she probably wrote them all. She told me to remember stories, to remember where I came from. She was so strong. So level and calm. She taught me to whistle. What I recall most dearly is her chuckle. Not her laugh, but her chuckle. It wasn’t even a chuckle it was so graceful. It was melodious and almost rollicking. Her chuckle was indescribable. In a way it was content and comforting. A little reminder to not take life too seriously. I will always remember her chuckling with a slight smile, her chin in her hand, with her head cocked endearingly.
Why? Why? Why?
And to take your own life. Suicide. To think that your existence isn’t worth anything just kills me because it wasn’t. Because you were so much. You were so much.
I would have done anything I could I have. I promise. Because you were so much. You are so much.
I hope you find Ernest Hemingway. Bye Peanut Butter, my wise, wise, Peanut Butter.