"Well, they're dead-ish"

[Lenore Lovelace]

Shielded from the morning sun with our dollar-store shades and f***** up I-just-spent-the-nite-on-a-couch hair, we managed to crawl into another diner and have some breakfast with a side of more conversation.  For whatever reason, I always find myself so damn intrigued by what other people have to say, but I am not sure why.  It certainly helps that the topics are interesting, and it is definitely a plus if you dig the person you are listening to. Maybe, despite the fact that we were both staring at each other behind tinted lenses, we can still see the expression in each other’s eyes and just be completely at ease.

Fond memories of adventures in South Jerseyinvolving zombies, lengthy diner conversation and general musings of spending time with my best friend.  

Reflecting on something that was written eight years ago, I am struck with feeling as though my life is surreal in many ways.  On on hand, I enjoy visiting the times that brought me happiness - but then I am flooded with thoughts and memories of how and why that all changed.

That is not me saying I am unhappy now - in fact I often consider my mental health to be the best it ever has been and generally I am satisfied with life - just musing because it's the best way I cope with the loss of someone who meant so much to me.