She is dead
I have just written a speech for my best friend in highschool. She has finally killed herself and I will be speaking at her funeral on Friday. I hate it, they gave me a minute and a half to say goodbye to her, while she was so talented and broad and there is so much to say about her.
I hate it that my words seem so flat and there is no room for jokes. I hate it that the words do not seem to honor the memories. Fuckin hell. I hate the fact that she is dead.
We have said all there was to it, before she killed herself. But I hate it, I can not tell her how I saw her family in the store the other day. I can not tell her how on sunday I stayed in bed until I got the conformation she had succeeded in killing herself. I can not tell her how silent it was... I can not tell her how much support I have had from friends the day she killed herself. And she can not tell me, whether the helium was painless. How good her last supper was. How proud she was she had finally succeeded. Because I think she will be proud. I hate the fact I went to work today because they said I was needed. And same goes for tomorrow. I hate it, my boss seems to think his not making his deadlines, is a reason to become frustrated... Well I will tell you... it isn't. Stop acting like a child. I have bought a cute black dress for her funeral. We sent text messages on the day she died, me telling her I was buying a purse for her funeral... and I felt stupid and feminine and definitely not like me.. her asking whether she could get high heels and cleavage as well... me saying no.... she saying something about respecting ones last wishes... me saying no again.... and don't push it...
And now I have high heels, cleavage and a black dress... Since I knew she would have laughed at the fact I would dress up for her funeral. Laughed really hard... in my face...
But she will not do that anymore.... because she is dead....
Monday while I went shopping for funeral clothes. I really wished my mom was there to support me... but she wasn't... because she is dead as well.
And me blogging about this, is a complete understatement of how I feel...
I hate it that my words seem so flat and there is no room for jokes. I hate it that the words do not seem to honor the memories. Fuckin hell. I hate the fact that she is dead.
We have said all there was to it, before she killed herself. But I hate it, I can not tell her how I saw her family in the store the other day. I can not tell her how on sunday I stayed in bed until I got the conformation she had succeeded in killing herself. I can not tell her how silent it was... I can not tell her how much support I have had from friends the day she killed herself. And she can not tell me, whether the helium was painless. How good her last supper was. How proud she was she had finally succeeded. Because I think she will be proud. I hate the fact I went to work today because they said I was needed. And same goes for tomorrow. I hate it, my boss seems to think his not making his deadlines, is a reason to become frustrated... Well I will tell you... it isn't. Stop acting like a child. I have bought a cute black dress for her funeral. We sent text messages on the day she died, me telling her I was buying a purse for her funeral... and I felt stupid and feminine and definitely not like me.. her asking whether she could get high heels and cleavage as well... me saying no.... she saying something about respecting ones last wishes... me saying no again.... and don't push it...
And now I have high heels, cleavage and a black dress... Since I knew she would have laughed at the fact I would dress up for her funeral. Laughed really hard... in my face...
But she will not do that anymore.... because she is dead....
Monday while I went shopping for funeral clothes. I really wished my mom was there to support me... but she wasn't... because she is dead as well.
And me blogging about this, is a complete understatement of how I feel...
posted by One other dream at 23.4.08
1 Comments:
People should read this.
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