Friday, April 8, 2011

Saying goodbye

Hey gang, it's me again. I went to see the grave today. That nasty bout of whatever it was is gone, though I still feel a tad wobbly. But that's not the point. The point was, I finally mader it down to say goodbye to my ex-GF. Alex was with me. It was hard for both of us.
Perhaps I should explain a bit... Sheila and Alex had been known each other since before Time. Their parents had gone to school together, and they lived right next door to each other. They'd been best friends from birth. They even went out for a few months in High School, although Alex has assured me quite often that they broke it off, since apparently they found it a tad odd. Then, when I moved up here from Texas 2 years ago, and I found Alex through an ad on Craigslist, I met Sheila. Needless to say, we hit it off. About two weeks after we first met, she and I started seeing each other.

The months I had with her were some of the best of my life. I'd never been so happy. So, naturally, it was doomed to fail. She broke up with me in December, and I hadn't heard from her till that fateful day a few weeks ago.

It's just... really sad I guess. She was so full of life. I know that that's something everybody says when a loved one dies, but she really was. She never seemed upset, she always had a smile on her face. She was so adventurous, which absolutely baffled my parents, seeing as I perferred to stay home and sleep. It's just hard to believe she's really gone...

 Anyway, We went to the grave. It was a nice spot, I guess. On top of a hill, overlooking the rest of the cemetary. Right under this big oak tree that looks about 6 million years old. The grave stone was simple. Just a plaque reading Here lies Sheila Ruth Daniels, Sister, Daughter, Friend. 1991-2011.

I cried. Yeah, I know, you were waiting to hear it. I cried there, standing over the the remains of the woman I had once loved. I sobbed like a baby. Alex cried too, although I think for him, it held more meaning then me. Sometimes, I think he loved her more than I ever could have. He certainly was shaken up. As we were walking back to the car, he started screaming at this party of mourners a few yards away, saying "Why, why did you take her? She never did anything? Why?" I had to get him out of there in a hurry, before someone called the cops. He's been acting really weird since she died. Not sleeping, barely eating, constantly looking out the window, like he expects someone to be down on the street watching him. I feel bad for the guy. Most days, he just sits in his room and never comes out. He even had a door with a lock installed. One of those big expensive heavy duty locks. I think I might have to take him to a shrink. I'm pretty sure this isn't part of the grieving process...

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