One Spooky Chick

Terror, Love, and Waking Up.

This weekend, a friend of mine was in a devastating car accident. He and a friend were stopped at a red light when a car rear-ended them at approximately fifty miles per hour. His friend’s injuries were not survivable, and my friend is currently in critical but stable condition.

This friend of mine is well-loved by many, many people, including myself. He and I were in a relationship for about nine months some years ago; we stayed friends, although our lives diverged and we didn’t see each other much. I still love him dearly.

I think that much of the reason he is so well-loved is that he has an inherent faith in the abilities of the people around him. He has little doubt that you will be the best version of yourself possible, and that your talents are remarkable. I was no exception to that beautiful light that he sees everyone under, and I refuse to think that light will go out yet.

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The strangest side effect of all this, all my terror at the news, my eyes-raw crying, and my desperate focus of love and hope, is that I have also realized that I have been living a half-awake life for too long now. I am not living the life he knows I can, and that I know I can. My creative life has stifled, I haven’t cared properly for myself in years, and I have made too many compromises out of fear. This has to stop. I do not want to fail the vision of someone so remarkable, who loves so wholeheartedly (if imperfectly), and who drives so many people to expand to their outermost borders of being. I don’t know what the full effects of this will be, but I need to re-commit myself to myself, so that one fine day soon, I can take my friend out for lunch or tea, and we can both find joy in each others’ success.

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