Part 20, Denial

Hey readers!  Yes, it's time for another story time Sunday :) I apologize for though. I feel bad because I haven't had a lot of time to devote to writing and making sure my blog and my pages are kept up the way I would like. I've been going through a hard time with my fiance and I've had to work on those issues. But I still have a post for you all today!!! Enjoy :)

 

 I was in denial for a long time. Her dad kept me informed on the details of her funeral and the wake. I was determined to go, since I was unable to visit her before she had passed away. I thought maybe it would maybe make up for being silly and not taking her up on her offer. I also knew that I would need the closure the wake would give. I didn't want to be a complete failure of a friend and to me that would be the straw the broke the camel's back. I did everything that I could and yet I still wasn't able to get the money to make it to my best friend's funeral. I wanted to go and be able to stand up in front of all her friends and family and tell them all how much she meant to me and everything she had done for me. I wanted to be able to see her one last time, even though she wouldn't be able to respond to anything I said.

I hated myself for not being able to go. I hated having to call her father and tell him that I wouldn't be able to make it. I was in denial about her passing for several months. I was lucky that I had my wonderful college friend, Margaret Irma during that time, or I don't think I would have been able to start grieving for Jill's passing. I feel bad that she had to listen to my depressing ramblings, but I am so grateful that she stuck by my side through it, and has continued to stay with me even to this day through all of my struggles and healing. After Jill's death, I would go on and on about how I felt like I had failed her as a friend and I wouldn't be able to live without her in my life. I would tell Margaret that I felt like I needed to be with her and maybe find a way to kill myself or end my life so I could be with the person who felt like my long-lost sister. Margaret was the voice of reason the entire time; my conscience or Jiminey Cricket, if you will. She would remind me that Jill would never want me to end my life like that; how she would want me to live my life for me and be happy. That she would want me to take care of myself and find someone who would treat me the way she felt I deserved to be treated; to life a full life and then meet her in the after life. That she would always be watching over me and guiding me even if she couldn't be with me physically.

I can't count the number of times she and I had this conversation over the span of a year since Jill's passing. My fiancĂ© wasn't even aware of how bad I was without her. He knew that I was depressed, but only Margaret knew how lost I was. She had been there for me on the off times that Jill was away from campus with her bouts of cancer before she couldn't take it anymore. I never used Margaret as a substitue, she is a wonderful person and I will always love her. She is my second best friend, and she knows this. Anything I say about her will never do her justice. To be honest, I know that a lot of the time she was there for me, I wasn't myself thanks to the Dissociative Identity Disorder so I don't remember everything. However, I'll always remember and miss our Sunday night bitch sessions. After our late night fraterinity meeting, we would go back to her dorm room, drink cherry bombs while watching some show or movie in the background while we complained and talked about our week. She and these Sunday nights are definitely another reason I made it through college without killing myself, along with Jill.  

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