We last had dinner at La Creperie.
The last thing he said to me: "It's ok."
The last thing we ate together was rootbeer shakes from that ice cream place off of south Union.
The last time I heard him laugh... this summer. Our last conversation... in the park listening to music. We've had many silent moments since then. And now he is gone from the world.
But now he's back to who he was in full health... right? I wonder if he can look down and see us. I wonder if he remembers that I love him. I wonder what he is doing.
I looked at his picture today. I've had his pictures up in my house for months. He meant so much to me and he taught me everything of value. I look at pictures of him sick and swollen. And his death makes sense. But I see pictures of him joking, healthy, strong. And it doesn't make any sense. He's 30 years old.
The whole situation is ridiculously shitty. Ridiculously shitty that we had to deal with all that. Ridiculously shitty that we couldn't work things out. Ridiculously shitty that he had to suffer for so long. You know, it is what it is. Max always says that. And it's true. We have to take everything in stride. I don't get to have an opinion of what should have been. Because I can't change any of that. And it brings me back to thoughts on being present and living fully in this moment. Because this moment is the only moment that I have to DO. I don't have the next moment or the past moment. But I do have this moment. And at this moment I can DO anything I want to DO. I suppose this whole situation - shitty as it was, taught me what I couldn't learn otherwise. And if I look past all the terrible, there was so much beautiful. There really was. Otherwise this wouldn't be so hard.