So yesterday was "9/11"... fuck that day.
Seriously, I don't want to hear about it, I don't want to think about it, but that's not going to happen...
See, what people don't get, is I think about it every single day.
I obsess over what I lost that day... all the time.
The people we knew that lost people, the terror, etc.. and more.
The day those towers fell, was the day my best friend, my honest to god soul mate, and the only person in the universe who ever "got" me, and accepted me, flaws and all, changed his life.
He dropped out of college, signed up for the Army, and went gung-ho G.I Joe.
My peace loving, pot smoking, chill-tastic and amazing friend, was going to be a soldier.
He justified it by saying it was his duty, that it wouldn't be that bad, that he'd look smoking hot in that uniform...
Like I didn't already think the sun shone out of his ass.
So I write to him every day of basic, I go see his graduation, and I settle in as Army BFF and probably future gf/wife/etc.
Things are fine, we visit, I have serious make-out sessions with him because yes, he looked amazing in that uniform, and we go through a deployment.
Then, he has to move. Not like we're not already going months without seeing each other whereas we used to be attached at the hip, but now he's leaving me.
I go on with my life, and we see each other every chance he gets... only now I'm a little older, and I'm a LOT prettier..
As I am heading off to college, his second deployment comes up... this time, it's going to get a lot worse according to him.
"I love you Kateydid, I'll write you. I'll try to call you. Will you wait for me? Seriously. Wait for me..."
"Duh, dipshit. I love you. I'll talk to you soon."
A couple months of sleeping with my damn phone, and constantly checking the mail... and all is well. I'm waiting for him, he's showing my picture off and people are talking about my tits in the fucking sandbox. Totally normal behavior for us.
"Kateydid, we're moving out. I will talk to you as soon as I can. I miss you and I love you... I got your last letter, and I'll write back as soon as we stop."
"Please for the love of jesus, don't be a hero. Just do your job, and call me in a few days. I love you dipshit, I'm still waiting."
Fast forward to three weeks... I'm calling his fucking parents, his friends, his ex girlfriend... I'm FREAKING the FUCK out.
No one has heard from him. According to his battle's wife, that's normal.
No. No the fuck it's not.
Exactly one month and a day, thirteen hours, sixteen minutes after the last time I heard his voice, his Mom calls me...
to tell me he's gone.
and with him, went my life.
My hero, my best friend, my dipshit...
I will always love you, dipshit. I will always remember the good times, the bad times, the stoned times, and the stellar times. I will forever hold you in my heart.
I miss you; I love you; Keep looking out, cause I sure need an angel like you.