I haven’t written since my friend Megan died. The wind and all the words were taken out of me. I didn’t feel like I had anything to say, but that has to stop. I need to find the words. Writing makes me feel good.
This isn’t going to be a long one. It just needs to be long enough to break back in or maybe out.
Megan wrote her story at The Karl Kronicles. She was an amazing person. She let me blow-dry her springy, curly hair out as far as I could make it go just because it made me happy. She was pretty blind without her glasses, but she could easily see the silhouette of her giant head. The fact that she was pocket-sized made her giant afro even funnier. When I had gotten my fill, I would flat-iron her hair down, which was just as big a privilege since her curls were practically feral.
I don’t know how to process my loss, but at least now I’m not alone in my head.
(photo courtesy of jamesandeverette.com)