I can't believe we somehow made it back to October. A year ago, I couldn't imagine what this place would look like, but it's the same October it's always been: a bit crisp (though not abundantly so), full of colors, the obligatory scary movie on every channel, and costumes lining the shelves in almost every store I've gone into. What I didn't realize then, that I realize now, is that the place and time hasn't changed-- it's me. While my community was impacted as a whole (and we were: thousands of people turned out to pay their respects to Ronnie), I carry a separate scar at the loss of my honorary family member. While we all cried together in those weeks, supporting one another, I still sometimes cry alone at the horrible ache of missing such a dear friend.
The world has gone on, a little less bright and a little worn, but as a whole, the world has remained unchanged.
And while I've gotten better with the passing time, I still miss him every day. I'm wholly changed and exhausted from the emotional turmoil of the last year, and I am weaker in so many ways without his support. I'll reread our conversations, I sometimes stare at old photographs, I am nostalgic in the worst sort of way when I am alone and vulnerable.
For some reason, October seems to stand out in my friendship with Ronnie. There are the obvious reasons, but then I remember the Halloweens we spent together, and I am reminded that our friendship was not defined or made by his death; that there were years of memories between us that have nothing to do with sadness. I remember coming home from trick-or-treating and playing truth-or-dare in my front yard, under my big climbing tree. I remember refusing to kiss him, even if at the time, we both knew I wouldn't have minded. I remember watching scary movie after scary movie in my living room with him and how he'd lay his head in my lap, or how I'd curl against him with his arm around me. It's those memories of this month that are getting me through my lethargy and dread.
As I count down, I am transported back to October 2010 and the events of every day until November 6th. It hurts and even if I truly wanted to, there's no way I could make myself forget it all. There are songs I can't listen to without tearing up, especially now that we're getting so close.
It's hard. And while I know it's hard for me, I see the way Brenda suffers-- the way DannyRay and Priscilla hurt and miss their brother so much. It breaks my heart.
It really seems like so much has changed. But it's just us.
I know that we'll all be together on the 23rd and again on the 28th, celebrating the 21st birthday he should have been alive to see. And I find some comfort in knowing how much love will be in one place at one time, and I know that I will feel less alone in my hurt and missing. But even so, it never truly goes away.
I guess at the end of the day, no matter how hard it is, we have to continue to live, only to live for him and all the lives he will never get the chance to lead.
I love you, Ronnie. To infinity and beyond and back again.
