Sunday, August 29, 2010

[¹ºº](Scr◦◦gε)[¹ºº]


July 6th 11:11AM I received a call that would and did undoubtedly change my life as I would have never known it (you may or may not know what happened, but that's not what this is about and I could really care less about your speculation). I lost my best friend, and the person who I have shared one of the closest relationships with (outside of my mother) in my life. I tend not to open up to an individual, but with him he became a part of my family. Looking back on our friendship I can't say that will ever happen and I actually don't want it to. To have someone taken away from me without being able to change anything, I don't think I could deal with it again. My emotions have become so numb to pain and that's not me being cold, but once I've experienced something like this, my tolerance for everything else less is just nonchalant.

I still relive the waking moments of July 6th. Woke up out my sleep by calls from numbers that weren't saved, to calling them back and only left saying "he always said that chick was crazy". It was a girl he used to talk to and worked with who first called me. I really couldn't believe the call. I called his job just so I could get in touch with him and wanted to say, "you know she called me saying some wild shit", only to hear the bad news confirmed. Thank god I had nothing to do that day, I arrived first to the hospital.

As that day unfolded the pain inside came out.. Not only as I saw him lay there in a hospital bed, but as I saw the pain that others so close to him we're going through. I know he couldn't tell the future but I wish he could have seen the reactions to the individuals that spoke to me since that day. Every moment I experienced my mother looked on cautiously because in her eyes it could have been me in the same situation. I saw his mother go from calmly talking to me, to breaking down the only way a mother should, and then rebuilding to stay strong as a rock for everyone around her. After seeing how strong his mother was, being the way I was, I was forced to be just as strong. I knew everyone. Was looking at me to see what my breaking point was. I really do appreciate people who spoke to me, and not just the expected "accept my condolences", "sorry for your lost", "let me know if there is anything I can do". Certain individuals were there days just like me and I saw genuine concern that possibly myself or his family was unaware that was there. It was love that I'm sure Stephen never saw from these same people when he was alive, but I don't doubt that it wasn't there; it’s just how we choose to express ourselves. One person that really reached out and I spent time talking to... And even the first phone convo after, I could hear in his voice the sincerity he had as a real friend.

Just as I lost a big part of my life, there were many people Stephen affected. Whether it was a positive, negative, respectful, disrespectful, funny, humiliating experience, we all had one with him, and those were all sides of himself that he choose to let certain people see. To say he was wrong for hiding how he felt about certain situations would make me a hypocrite, because as I stood there then and now, I'm guilty of the same thing. I guess that's just a part of some or all peoples nature, but we wouldn't really know about it would we? I have flash instances of certain experiences we had, and it seemed like they were only yesterday. The memories from furthest away seem like the closest. All the talks we had on things we want to accomplish if it was finishing school, getting a jacket, getting our first cars, or far fetched like if we won the lottery and what we would do. He was always surprised I said I would split it with him if I won. LOL. I still hear him saying, "nigga you whillin, I'd get you your Aston, and make sure good, but half, that's crrraaazzzzy." It could just be the fact we were talking on dreams, but I really think that if I had it, I would.

"Just want to say I'm sorry... To The People That Will Get Hurt From What I'm About To Do..." is the last message he left for many to read. It hurt even to know I didn't have my blackberry that week and I would have spoken to him more which might have made the "butterfly effect" and stopped what happened. To say that anyone could have stopped his actions is only wishful thinking. Stephen was always a person who did what he wanted, when he wanted, and why he wanted. He wouldn't care how you would feel, or react, if he wanted to do something he did it. It he didn't do it, its because he didn't really want to. If you knew him, you know this is true, and if you saw him acting "crazy" and you didn't know him, someone would tell you... That's just how he was.

I've started writing this over the past couple weeks and I just take breaks in between because this whole ordeal was the most I've ever been to in my life.

As the days passed in the hospital I saw people come and go. I saw people stay there as long as I did, and even longer. Sometimes I didn't stay because it was for me, but I felt like his mother needed another strong person there with here, and not everyone always crying, because even that can become overbearing. Hope came and left just like a breeze that passes on a summer night, I could even say that for some people, who just seemed like they wanted to know what happened, without as much concern for him. I'm not one to judge so I won't even hold onto those memories.

Everything I do, I imagined the last time he was here while the same thing occurred. Even as far as listening to the Drake album for the first time. I remember bringing it into the car, and listening to the first 9 tracks on our way and in front of Nocturnal. This is the same reason I broke down re-listening to it outside the hospital. As strong as I may have been inside the hospital, I was not the same when I was outside. I'd go outside and be alone and vent. He was supposed to be here a lot longer, enjoying a lot more stuff with me. Sometimes I feel like I need to be around people who knew him, but at the same time, a new face to clear your mind with no actual attachment to him (except me thinking what he would have told me about the person, or foolish things we would have done).

So much left unsaid, so much left undone... He's probably the only person I would have never got tired of. I know its no one else that would know me like he did and now I don't have to worry about getting that close of a friendship to anyone. I'm just numb. Our whole friendship seems like it was all in the blink of an eye. Still to me.. Its like he's gone on a vacation and I'm just chilling until he comes back. It may not be the best way to deal with it but that's where my mind is at...

Born November 14th, 1984 went on vacation July 14th 2010. Officially the worst summer. It feels like everyone was losing someone right and left. So Much more is missing from this but I can't put all of this together.. It's all left in my head.

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