A year ago today, a friend of mine passed away. I still recall the exact details of that night and the following day. After getting out of an indoor lacrosse practice around 7pm, I read a text from him giving details of his night's endeavors. It was a Saturday night and he had finally had it off work. Seeing as he was part-owner/bartender at two busy bars in the village, a night off was a rare occurrence, something to celebrate!
I don't know if I can write this. I stood up all last night thinking over and over again how there needs to be some kind of release that we have with these thoughts, these occurrences, these feelings. I don't know if this one is writing.
I asked a friend of mine who knew Denver also if she'd like to go meet up with him to have a laugh. As always, she gave me a maybe and then ditched out last minute. I went home, showered and threw some flip flops on because it was raining. I don't like wet shoes. I began walking to the train to meet up with him on my own. I was heading down Fulton Street towards the Jay Street A/C/F subway station. Half-way there, I decided I should just stay in for the night and watch a movie with my roommate Lizelle. I went to MacDonald's for the first time in a year and got an OJ and yogurt parfait. As I returned to the dorms, I came in at the very beginning of what movie Lizelle and Charles decided to watch, The Departed.