so there’s a little background to this story and yes it’s about her again so if you’re sick of me talking about it you can just skip past this now.
the last time I saw mel we went to the bar where my friend, kennedy works to catch up and chat.
4 days later, I found myself back at kennedy’s bar in tears and telling kennedy about how the girl I just introduced her to that week was now gone and I was in tears as I told her. and kennedy literally wiped the tears from my face, looked at me and said “dave, everything will be alright”
well for whatever reason they had live music there that night and so kennedy runs up to the guy and asks him if he knows a song and the answer was no. he’d never played it before and didn’t know how to. but because she asked, he just went for it and winged it.
and while I’m honestly no fan of reggae or even marley for that matter, this was one of the most beautiful moments of my life and this song is now forever etched into me
I still don’t have it figured out yet.
I still hurt.
but it’s been a month now and I get the feeling that the people I talk with are getting tired of me talking about her. like I should have moved on by now.
and maybe I should have but I just can’t.
it’s been 33 days now and I still haven’t made it a single day with out crying yet
I could write for hours about all the reasons of how she was so amazing. but instead I’ll just say that I still miss her so much and I’m still hurting pretty badly.
and I’m sorry to all the people that have listened to me and tried to be there for me. but also fuck you for thinking I should get over it already. maybe one day I will. but not yet.
we’ve all hit the age where deaths happen and you just deal with it. no one lives forever and shit happens.
especially with me because every one of my friends is either a bartender or a musician, and they party like no one else. so shit is more likely to catch up to us.
but not this one. this wasn’t supposed to happen to her. not to her.
to the kindest, sweetest most beautiful soul I’ve ever met I want to thank you for the times I got to share with you.
but I also want to be angry because goddammit we had plans this week and you bailed on me.
now who am I supposed to text at 4am when I need a friend and advice?? now who am I supposed to take to bullshit concerts of bands no one else has even heard of? now who am I supposed to take to ethnic restaurants no one else knows exists?
I’m so grateful for the times we had and I’m so angry for the times we didn’t get yet.
but know that I love you and I miss you
I don’t know what’s in store for us after this life, but I hope you’re happy and safe there. RIP
I don’t believe in much, so texting her “I love you” after I learned of her death seems pretty idiotic but I guess we all deal with grief in our own ways.
Melanie, I’m going to miss all of our long talks over coffee about books and obscure bands and foreign films and gardening and what’s going on in our personal lives.
but most of all I’m going to miss you
found out this bar had homemade mozzarella that is battered and deep fried and served with fresh basil and a tomato sauce.
two minutes later my plate looked like this.
oh. and martinis.
when she got out of her car the driver of the truck said “thank god. the last person that rear ended me like that didn’t make it.”
our relationship has definitely had it’s ups and downs and everything in between. but the minute she sent this picture I wanted nothing more than for her to be here in my arms.
life isn’t perfect. people aren’t perfect. and you aren’t perfect. but try to appreciate what you have, because it’s scary how easily it can be taken from you in an instant
I just watched a standup comic that ended his routine with a joke about a cross dressing 8 year old boy that smokes cigars and drinks scotch.
recommended suggestion for the next thing I should watch based on that?
disney’s “air buddies” “air bud is back but this time he brought the whole family along only this time the pups are in charge”
way to go, netflix. way to go
pro tip: you should get an italian woman for a roommate
I could tell you that the first concert I ever spent my own money to see was The Ramones.
I could tell you I own 2 Ramones concert shirts; one that’s been worn into the ground and one that’s been worn once.
I could tell you that I became a musician because of The Ramones.
I could tell you that Bono handed U2’s MTV’s lifetime achievement award to The Ramones and then walked off the stage
I can tell you that every single foggy mirror or dirty windshield I’ve ever walked past ended up having the word “Ramones” written into it with my finger tip
I can tell you exactly where I was the day the Joey died
and I can tell you that every single song The Ramones ever played live started off with the bass player counting off “ONE TWO THREE FOUR” and I always threatened to start up a tribute band named 1234
but I can’t tell you how hard it hit me when the last Ramone, Tommy, died this weekend and afterwards I got this screen cap texted to me
wonder if she’s a natural purple head?