Here's the Thing
And I swear to you, sometimes I also can't believe that this is still gripping me like it is.
Because the fact is, as I have probably already mentioned, it's not like she was in my life for that long. Because if you leave out the first meeting and the annual Christmas Eve "Hi, how are ya's", we're talking less than 2 years. I made a list. Did I already tell you this? I made a list of all the times we were together from the time when it was clear we were going to actually be friends. And out of the 20 or so times on that list (I'm not kidding you...20 times or so) there were even fewer that were just her and me. And then she frakkin' died and I will NEVER get to talk to her again, or read her insightful blog posts or FB status updates (seriously...the silence from her now non-existent FB page is deafening) or hold her in my arms.
I didn't actually hold her in my arms that much, either. She wasn't a hugger in the way I am. She hugged, mind you, but not in the impulsive, "hi, I just met you but I'm pretty sure I love you" golden retriever way that I hug. And the last time I hugged her was in the doorway of my house. And she felt so fragile and small. I hugged her gently because it felt like she would break. And only a few weeks later she did.
I swear, I am still trying to figure out why there is this giant hole in my heart where Suzanne used to be. Because on the face of it, this shouldn't be so hard. I mean, omg, if this is what losing Sooz is like, I am waaaaay ill-equipped to lose any of the people with whom I have so much more history.
Sometimes I think it's just because of the baby - who I love and who I promised to always be there for and who is never going to know the mom who was so amazing and loved her so much. The baby who sometimes calls me "mama" because it's what babies do but whenever she does it just kills me because I am so not her mama. And more to the point, the kid isn't even going to remember her mama. And that breaks my heart. Because Sooz was the sort of woman who should be remembered. Especially by the baby she loved so damn much.
And sometimes I think it's just because of Peter...who I once loved and who is now back in my life in a whole new way and also in a very old and comfortable way...and thinking of the young boy I first knew and how just, well, WRONG it is that he should be a widower.
And then there are times when I know that I'm sad just for me. For what ain't never gonna be. I got this sliver of a glimpse at what friendship with her looked like and it's gone and I'll never know the comfort of it.
Mourning is a very selfish thing. I already figured that out. But, apparently, I'm not through with it yet.