It’s July again, and I think out of the many people that broke my soul by leaving the past year, you’re the person I miss the most. You were my summer, the reasons behind my laughs, my nonchalant behaviors, my confidence, a big part of my happiness. You made it easier, all of it, you made it easier to live summer, a season I am bound to feel depressed in; you made it easier to be free.
It wasn’t much, but it was a lot. You called me most of the mornings to ask about my day, my plans, if I would like to meet up. We texted the whole day, made plans for every day and every weekend. We listened to the same songs, read mutual interesting books, you introduced me to documentaries I never thought of watching, to stories I never thought would compel me.
I spent most of my evenings with you, at our place, eating french fries, tabbouleh, and cappuccino.
I know you’ve been there multiple times after, but I haven’t stepped a foot there since September, the day I came in crying, and you laughed at me and we started acting as if you are the one who was making me cry, and then you took me to your place by the sea and you listened to me tell you about my problems, and you told me about yours. You told me things you would never tell to anyone, and I did the same thing, and I did not expect to stay friends with you because what I told you was so personal, but I loved you still, we remained as close.
I remember you now, with piercing memories and heart wrenching nostalgia, because you lived with me every second of every day last summer, my personal and my professional life, you were part of both, and I never imagined I would lose you so quickly.
See, I fought so hard the feeling of breaking down and missing you, because I knew that letting myself feel your loss would take a huge toll on me, so I kind of bottled it up, I avoided the feeling, did not mention you much with my therapist, did not look back at our photos, our conversations, did not make the extra effort to keep you alive, as I promised.
But now, almost a year since I lost you, I know your loss was not easy, and never will be. It was safe and right, and I was not as old as I feel right now.
I think a major part of me being as tired now is that I was never strong enough to deal with you leaving, and I am reacting differently. You were never a lover, you were a friend. And maybe that’s all I ever really needed. I wrote about you, many times, in this blog, I wrote what I never could write about anyone else, and I remained insistent, that your loss will not affect me as much. But it did.
I’m so cold, and I am so tired. I am so exhausted I can not even explain it. My face is tired, older than it should, even my outfits have been too professional and old, almost as cooperate as I have never been. I’m making all the wrong decisions and repeating bad habits that are only crushing my soul and breaking my bones and making me more tired, if possible. I’m not saying last year was perfect, but it was simpler, never as complicated as it is right now.
And I know it would’ve been simpler if you were still here. You gave me meaning, gave me love, gave me genuine joy. Right now, as I look back at your photos on Instagram, I am yearning to places and a time I wish I could have lived with you, I am yearning to times you made it all better, you made the pain ease, the voices quieter, you made it feel like home.
I’m listening to Adonis, and i think their lyrics fit perfectly what I am feeling right now:
“I don’t wish you anything but peace, my love
and that you live in serenity, no one upsets you
you realise all your dreams
and I want you to know, my heart
that you’ve become a piece of my heart
and that whenever I’m happy
I know that you’re happy, too”
Ps. this was written on July 13, 2022, few minutes before my grandma did.