365.

Warning: This is another self indulgent, sad post.

It’s been one year since my best friend died.

Am I supposed to be okay by now? I don’t know. I’m better. I can say the words out loud “Jimi died.” I can listen to about three Phish songs before I break down.  I don’t cry every day anymore.

But I still really, really, fucking miss my friend. Every day, several times a day, for the last 365 motherfucking days.

I don’t feel at peace with what happened. I still struggle to accept that I’ll never hear his voice again. I don’t have that calm “This is the way things are supposed to happen.” peaceful acceptance.  Maybe someday.

But it didn’t happen this year.

 

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