23

There are days in my existence where it is simply unavoidable...The look back. This is one of those days I am impossibly sad to say. I will say that in 23 years, I have never stopped talking to him, he has graciously spoken back in the orange of sunsets, the flutter by of a butterflies wings, the receiving of minor and major miracles all along the way. I will also say that I have missed him every second of every day, not a sun rise has gone up where he is not part of my appreciation. It is just crazy, the way one single, solitary human being, can so profoundly change someone's life, it's course, it's destiny, it's mission statement. He did that for me. No doubt, and I licked my thumb at hello, smeared away the toothpaste that sat at the hinge of his smile... Crazy shit, is that from that very moment he knew he had a choice. Walking into me was like walking into the eye of the storm with a blind fold on, ear plugs buried deep, and your hands tied behind your back. No one is capable of convincing me, that he didn't go willingly to get wings. In the final second of life, he smiled at death, welcomed the higher perspective with open arms and just let go. This is the only way it ever could have happened. I remember this day 23 years ago, as if I were that same, late for work, can't find my sunglasses,"FUCK" - where are my keys???? eighteen year old girl. Thing is - I kinda am. I have come full circle in myself and the old me that died on May 31st 23 years ago in the Charles River, she has been reborn after a battle of the wills - the will to live, well it finally won. I'm Backkkkkk..... I had a message to call him. I did - he was in the shower. His Mother stood in the door frame, the shower ran. he said, "Tell her to wait" I said, "Tell him I'm late" - Right there, at that....the tears never fail to sting no matter how hard I fight them back. Tommy Ryan called at the ass crack of dawn, an accident was on the news "Dee sit down please" I had no knees after that, they buckled into prayer as I watched his hair fall from the side of a stretcher being pulled out of the Charles. His funeral came with the first and worst panic attack of my life. I looked at my own hands as they froze, my lungs crashing together as my chest closed from an impact I could not possibly brace for, I looked around in slow motion for anything that seemed real. I thought I was dying too. I remember the day, the hands, the tree I braced myself on as I stumbled around grave markers, the sounds, his Mother's cries, the breeze, the pounding in my chest, the notebook, blizzard 13, Ain't nothin like the real thing. The details saturate my memory. I remember the day he painted me, my boobs were so pretty then, and to stand naked for six hours felt like a victory deserving of a war cry and a twinkly eyed smile. I remember washing his hair in the claw foot, laughing, as he sat between my legs all that black hair plastered to my chest, it splayed across me like a safety net. I remember a window sill and a butterfly. Music and beautiful hands. I remember everything and it hurts to know so much. But also, it is the greatest blessing of my life. I learned above all, to never NOT say all the things you SHOULD say. If I love you, you fucking know it until it's annoyance. Anyone who I love will tell you, I give it up free like, you'll never have to ask or want. And with that it hurts too much to go on. Rio misses you Johnny. And yes, I know that Nikki Sixx rant was my first published piece smart ass. RIP Boo 23 <3