so few vestiges of that time remain in my life now.
i've scanned through my myspace friends, to try to find the others who might understand. there aren't many. it's been eleven years since i've seen him at least, or maybe twelve. chances are high that i would have gone the rest of my life without ever seeing any of them again really. but those years - they were a lifetime ago, no doubt - but no, they were a week ago, they were yesterday, they're still happening. they replay in my head all day long every day. a piece of me lives there and always will.
Ryan Katzenberger died on easter sunday. He wasn't my best friend, not even in the days when we lived in the same neighborhood and saw each other daily, hung out in each others' houses, ate lunch together at school. but he was one of us, part of us, during the only time in my life that i've ever been part of anything. the people involved in that group have scattered far and wide; i only talk to three or four of them anymore with any regularity. but you just sort of run with the assumption that everyone is somewhere, living a life somehow, doing alright. maybe not wildly successful, maybe not blindingly happy, but alright. smiling sometimes. laughing sometimes. and maybe once in a while remembering the night when what seemed like twenty of us played flashlight tag in a corn field behind the clarks' house, and then watched bats swoop over the pool - they're attracted to the water.
My heart goes out to his brother Jay; I can't imagine losing my sister. They had always been so close. And to his wife. I didn't know her; she came into his life long, long after I'd left it. But if she loved him, which doubtless she did, she is hurting more now than she ever knew was possible. I can only hope that she has friends and family that will support her through this time.
Ryan, regardless of the time that has passed between what we were and what we have become, you will be missed.