Today, I paid my last respects to my oldest friend. I've been crying for a week, since I found out about her death. She was the toughest bitch out there. We all thought she'd outlive us. She beat the odds in birth - preemie in 1979, born smaller than a pop can.
We had one of those friendships where you can go for years without seeing each other, and it'll be like nothing has changed when you do see each other. We could go months, and sometimes years, without talking at all, and still pick up like nothing had changed.
She didn't give a shit what anybody thought of her. She was full of sass and spunk and passion. She told you what she thought of you, whether you wanted to know or not. She didn't beat around the bush. If you pissed her off, you knew it, and you paid for it.
She did know the meaning of respect, however, and would call people out on disrespecting the very young, the disabled, and the very old, in particular. She also demanded to be shown respect in her home, and would only give you as much respect as you showed her.
In the last 2 yrs, she became religious. I mentioned my feelings on that two posts ago, so if you haven't read that far back yet... I'll just leave it at that. But as I listened to the preacher dude talk about how she had come to find Jesus and accept him into her life, all I could imagine was her sitting beside me with her arm around me, her other hand making the "yapping" motion, and saying, "Blah, blah, blah... this guy is so full of shit." It brought a whisper of a smile to my face.
We had a lot of adventures over the years. She was my bad influence. Everybody needs one, or needs to be one.
So now, it's time for me to learn how to come to terms with never again receiving a text from her... never again getting a random phone call from her... never again seeing her name come up in my Facebook feed... never again getting to see her, hug her, touch her. Time for me to come to terms with time being up for her.
Rest in peace, Blaine. You were well-loved.
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