A close friend ended his life Thursday and I have never dealt with this before (not that it would be easier if I had). I don’t know how I feel or should feel. Talking about it publicly and parasocially feels weird; not talking about it feels weird. For now I’ll settle on “I miss him.”
“Experiences not things” I say to myself as I fondly recall the time I walked in on my mom riding cowgirl on my dad while he was smoking and had an ashtray on his chest
When I was in college, we had a gag where any time someone couldn't remember a movie name, we'd suggest they were talking about Powder. Then one year, my brother got me this for my birthday. Good times.
